Ice
by forgetyouinsiberia
Summary: In the wake of a school shooting at Grant Highschool, who will be hurt, who will be affected, and when it's all said and done, what will be left of them? Read to find out...
1. With A Little Poison We Can Burn

**A/N: **This story formed out of the need for my brain to throw up all that I was reading. Let me explain. I was reading Columbine by Dave Cullen, and with how intense it is, I had to write down all this information somewhere. Somehow that ended up being a Secret Life story. Most of the idea panned from the fact that people always spend time examining why/how it happened, and I'd rather pay attention to the effects its leaving on the victims.

That said, this story is NOT for the light-hearted. Yes, eventually it will get better and happy, but it's going to be intense for a while. Please don't think that I'm trying to judge or even remotely understand something I've been through. This story simply panned from the need to get ideas out of my brain and onto paper, or rather now the computer screen.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and hopefully chapter two will follow soon .

**Ice**

_Chapter 1:  
With A Little Poison  
We Can Burn This Whole Place Down_

Amy yawned as she opened her eyes. She jumped as thunder clapped and shook the house roughly. She pushed the blankets back as she sat up. Amy so didn't want to be awake right now. She wanted to be going to school even less. She'd barely gotten any sleep the night before between taking care of John and trying to get homework done. On top of that, her mother seemed to have no problem reminding her almost every half hour that she needed to get 'that baby' on a regular sleeping schedule.

She felt so worthless to her mother these days. She constantly yelled at her and even when Amy did so much good, Anne could always find something she did wrong.

Amy bit her bottom lip as she stepped out into the hall, brushing past her sister quickly, and stepping into the nursery. John's wailing quickly calmed to a whimper as he clenched and opened his fists repeatedly Amy, signifying that he wanted to be picked up. She lifted him from the crib and shushed him as she held him close to her. It felt like he was the only one who wouldn't judge her lately, and as much as caring for him drove her nuts lately, she'd rather be around him than be with her family. Ashley had become the perfect child and she was just the red-headed step child now. She felt worthless.

Amy walked over to the changing table and settled John on it, keeping one hand on him as she opened the drawers, pulling out a clean diaper and a fresh onesie. John fussed with her at the sight of them, but laid down regardless when she settled him on his back. She quickly changed him and then walked to the closet, pulling out a pair of jeans and a sweater.

Her alarm clock started beeping in the next room and she groaned, knowing she'd be hearing from her mother in just a few minutes because she wasn't in there to shut it off. A knock at the door became her saviour as she spun around, seeing an already fully-clothed but soaking wet Ricky. He smiled as he sheathed his jacket off and settled it on the back of the door. "I'll take care of him. I think you have enough time to grab a shower and breakfast before we go."

Amy gave a heavy sigh as she passed the clothes off to Ricky and kissed Johns head. "Thank you so much. I really need one." She kissed Ricky's cheek chastely and then ran from the room. Ricky just laughed as she dashed into the bathroom. Moments later, he heard water running.

_---------  
Twenty-eight days to kick a habit__  
Twenty-eight days to let you go  
--------_

Amy was quick in the shower. She'd learned within days after John was born that she didn't have much time to spend doing things for herself before he would interrupt her.

She ran the towel against her head once more, fluffing her hair lightly with it before setting it into the basket on the floor. She walked over to the vanity, quickly brushing through her hair. It was so thick that it all fell into place where it wanted to; even her own hair wouldn't let her have a say in her life. She quickly brushed it, managing to get the tangles out rather quickly, and then she clipped her hair up, leaving her bangs swept to the side as she usually did.

Amy slipped off her robe, yanking a pair of jeans off her bed and jumping into them, buttoning them in record time. "What am I doing rushing myself? Ricky's with John..."

She smiled to herself as she realized she actually had time to get ready without rushing this morning. She leaned forward and grabbed a white tanktop off of it. She was definitely testing fate by deciding to wear it today, but she loved the shirt and even baby vomit was not going to stop her today. Once she had the shirt on, Amy walked over to the closet and pushed aside several shirts before she found a gray Roxy sweater. She pushed her arms into it and zipped the front.

Amy walked over to the vanity again and quickly applied a little bit of makeup before running back to her bed and stuffing everything into her purse.

She barely made it downstairs before her mother slammed into her, who barely missed a beat before starting in on her. "Take care of your son, Amy."

Amy gulped, looking over and seeing John on the table in his carseat. "Wha-...Ricky was here. He was going to take John to the nursery and-"

Anne shook her head. "No. You know he's not allowed in this house. Not since-"

Amy screamed, unable to hold it back any longer. She knew she shouldn't have, but she couldn't stand shoving it all down anymore. "Shut. Up! Ever since Bob got out of jail and beat him up in school, you've acted like all he's going to do is cause trouble, but he hasn't done a SINGLE thing to anyone here! Everyone has been safe, everyone at the nursery has been watching John like a hawk; they know to call me or Ricky if Bob shows up there. But you still treat him like he poison! You, you even treat me like all I'm going to do is damage everyone in this house! You yell at me every time I do the smallest thing wrong, you blame me for things that Ashley doesn't do but is supposed to, or doesn't get to right away. Its like...I don't know mom. Maybe I should just leave."

Anne sighed, appearing to be actually listening to Amy. "I'm sorry. Your father and I are just very worried about keeping you girls and John safe. We know there's a high possibility that Ricky isn't right now because of Bob and we don't want the two of you hurt because of it."

Amy groaned. "But he cares, mom. About me and John and he wants us to be safe too. All he was going to do was drop John off at the nursery with me and then drive me to school." She ran a hand through her bangs, brushing them out of her face; they'd fallen when she bumped into Anne.

"Well your father will make sure you get to school. Have Ricky take John to the nursery when you get there. I don't have time this morning," Anne excused, stepping past Amy.

Amy bit her bottom lip, shaking her head once her mother was out of the room. She walked over to the counter, tucking John's blanket tightly around him before she pulled the carseat cover down over him, leaving only the small window over his face uncovered. He peaked up at her only for a moment before closing his eyes again, apparently going back to sleep. Amy smiled and lifted the carrying lever, pulling him off the table once it was up. Hopefully she wouldn't have to wait too long for Ashley and George to be ready to go.

_-----------------  
Slow it all down, the damage is done  
Play the music loud, don't make a sound  
-------------------_

Amy wiped a tear off her cheek as she set John's car seat down on the floor. The entire drive to school, George had been yelling at her for losing it on her mother. Once they'd arrived at school, she didn't dare say anything about taking John to the nursery. She didn't want to be anywhere near her family right now.

Mere minutes after she'd gotten out of the car though, her heart had jumped into her throat. John hadn't been to school with her ever since he was born and she didn't like exposing herself or him to this much attention. Ricky was nowhere to be found, even though she'd been texting him the entire ride to the school, and trying to call him once she'd arrived. Still, she hadn't seen him anywhere on campus, and his phone just continued to ring and ring until it went to voicemail.

Amy walked over to the piano bench, sitting down on it as she wiped another tear away. She didn't want to have John here with her, and now she was probably either going to end up having Ricky take her home for the day, or to work.

The bell rang loudly and she bit harder on her lip. Great, now she was going to miss class and would have to pray that Ricky actually answered his phone. She texted him once again, asking where he was...

_----------  
While I thought somehow, this hate would heal me  
But this hate is never ending, and its only killing me…  
----------_

Ricky was barely outside of Dr. Bink's office before his phone buzzed once again in his pocket. It had taken all he could to fight her off without actually hitting her. He'd known the moment he met her that he couldn't trust her. Something about her had just sent a shiver down his spine and reminded him of Bob.

The bells chimed, signaling that it was time for class to start, but he pulled his phone from his pocket instead. Everyone ran past him, several people even knocking into him and shoving him aside in order to get to their homerooms on time. In the midst of it, he was knocked backwards, and someone swinging open their locker, hit him in the face. No words were exchanged though. The girl simply closed her locker and walked away.

He lifted a hand to his face, feeling for blood. There was only a small trace of it, and he ignored it as he headed for the music hallway. Lockers and doors still slammed as he read the text message on his phone.

_My parents flipped on me again. Where are you? John's here with me. Piano room._

Ricky groaned, rubbing his eyes as he turned the corner to the music hallway. He really didn't want to go back to the counseling office, but Amy would want him to when she saw his face.

Several teachers glared at him as he walked past the rooms, and rolled their eyes even though he flashed the yellow slip that signified he would be running late to class. The next few seconds ticked by faster than he could think as they happened.

First, a door slammed somewhere behind him, and he heard his name echo down the hall, reaching his ears about the same time as two ear-splitting sounds did. A scream escaped him as it felt like knives hit him; first in his right shoulder, and then in his back, right below his neck.

Doors flew open and people screamed as teachers saw the bullet shells, and Ricky laid out on the floor. Still, no one was in the hallway to help him or even move him. Doors slammed shut just seconds later and as he finally turned to look up, Bob was hovering over him, holding a gun to his head.

"Why can't you just ever stop," Ricky gasped for breath, wincing at Bob's knee on his wrist.

"Why can't you ever just die," he retorted. Ricky squeezed his eyes shut as the gun fired again. His throat knotted as he felt the piercing pain in his knee, but his entire body buckled as he felt the stabbing pain in his chest, and then his wrist. He felt like he was drowning in his own body, and every movement hurt. He felt like things were fading around him; everything hurt too much to care about anything else…

_-----  
When there was nowhere  
Left to hide, I found out  
That nothing's real here,  
But I won't stop now  
Until I find a better part of me  
----_

The halls were filled with students running back and forth, screaming and shoving each other aside so they could get out. Three glass doors that blocked the entrance to the main doors had been broken after everyone had run in havoc.

However, inside the band room, Amy still had no idea what was going on outside. She'd been inside the room the entire time with John, and although things got loud for a few minutes, but they'd quieted back down just as fast. She knew nothing of what was going on outside that room; she didn't want to expose herself to that many people surrounding her with her son. Even at the nursery, there weren't that many people around them together.

She'd tried texting Ricky several times, but still she'd gotten no answer. It almost infuriated her that he hadn't at least tried to call her.

A knock at the door brought her out of her thought process, but she was nervous about answering it.

"Amy, its Ben. Open up."

She gulped, shaking her head at herself and walked over to the door and opened it lightly. Ben pushed her back, quickly shutting the door behind him. Amy scowled, walking over to John and picking him up out of his car seat. "What the hell, Ben?"

He dropped against the door, breathing out a heavy sigh. "Sorry. Its chaos out there."

Amy raised an eyebrow at him. "What're you talking about? Class is in session."

Ben shook his head. "No, its not… Wait, why is John here?"

Amy shrugged, growing more confused by the minute. "There was a fight at home this morning so I need Ricky to take him to the daycare and take me home. What do you mean class isn't going on?"

Ben gulped, looking down at the floor. "Maybe I shouldn't be the one to tell you-"

Amy shook her head, walking over to him and lifting his head up to make him look at her. "Tell me what? What's going on out there?"

Ben shrugged slightly. "I don't know, really. I guess some people heard some pops and the school's on lockdown. The school's pretty much empty but anyone inside isn't getting out, and no one has come in."

Amy bit her bottom lip, trying to understand all that was going on. "What…Are you saying someone out there has a gun?"

Ben looked down at the floor again. "I'm saying I don't know. Some people said Ricky was in the hall before, but he's not now."

Amy tried to control all the thoughts running through her head, but it was all too much to take in, and she began gasping for air, shaking as the tears burned in her eyes. It wasn't bad enough that Bob was trying to kill Ricky every day of the week, now someone in school had a gun?

"Try to breathe Amy. We'll find him. We'll think of something," Ben promised.

Amy shook her head, holding John tightly against her chest as sobs rattled through her. "I can't…lose him. We just… started working things…out," she gasped after each word, not sure she could actually get it together, let alone keep it together.

Before Ben could say anything else, the door handle jiggled again. He spun around quickly, nervous about leaving Amy alone. Then again, it might be someone who was hurt. "I'm not going anywhere, I just… Someone might be hurt."

Amy shook her head, grabbing his arm. "It could be someone with a gun. Don't answer it."

A knock followed the shaking of the door handle, and then muffled talking. "It's Adrian. Please open the door, Grace is hurt."

Amy shook her head still, clinging to Ben. "Adrian hates me. She could be lying," she whispered harshly.

Ben sighed heavily. "Amy, just let me check. I promise I'll slam the door if she has a gun," he whispered just as softly. Amy was tentative to let him go, but she did, and Ben stood, walking over to the door. He opened it slowly, and then threw it open as he saw Grace hanging off of Adrian. He helped Adrian get Grace into the room, and then turned to look out the room. "Did you lock the door?"

Adrian shook her head. "No, I was trying to get Grace inside. I didn't get a chance."

Ben huffed and ran out of the room, into the main band room. Just as he reached the door, it flew open. He ran backwards, about ready to shut the door to the practice room when he realized it was Jack and Ricky.

_"I told you to let me go. I can walk fine!"_

"_What kind of joke is that?! You got shot in the leg." _

Amy ran out of the practice room, practically dropping John into Ben's arms as she ran up to Ricky, clinging tightly to him.

"Ow, Amy, ow." His whimpers were strangled as he dropped his weight against her, though Jack tried to hold him up. Ben locked the door behind them once again, and took over for Jack, so that he could check on Grace.

Adrian walked into the room in the meantime, and helped Ben and Amy to lower Ricky to the floor. Amy ran from the room, back into the practice room before anyone could say anything else. She slammed the door behind her and locked it, dropping to the floor in tears.

Grace lifted her head off of Jack's shoulder, seeing Amy in front of them. "What happened?" She gaped as she saw all the blood soaked on Amy's clothes. "Amy, what happened." Grace pushed herself away from Jack, making him let go of her hand. She walked over to the door where Amy was sitting, and sat down next to her. "What happened?"

Amy finally looked up, her teeth practically imbedded in her lip as her chin trembled. "R-Ricky. I do-don't know what happened. He go-… I don't know," she shook her head as another round of sobs broke through her.

Grace wrapped an arm around Amy, hugging her. "It'll be okay. But if we're going to get through today, you have to calm down."

Amy shook her head, resting it against Grace's shoulder. "I don't know if I can."

Grace shook her head. "You have to. Now c'mon. Do you have any extra clothes? In your cubby or in John's bag?"

Amy nodded, standing and walking over to her backpack. She unclipped the two buckles and flipped the cover over, pulling out a pair of leggings and a mini dress. "I um, I think Mr. Sedlack keeps a first-aid kit in that closet, Jack." Amy spoke quickly, crossing the room so she could change. Grace hopped over and used one of John's blankets to sheild Jack's view, though Amy considered it futile. It was only a baby blanket, and there was no way he wasn't able to see _something_.

She quickly yanked her jeans off and slipped into the leggings she'd put in her bag weeks ago. Afterwards, she slipped off her sweater and then her tank top, and tossed them over Grace, onto the piano. She then quickly pulled the dress over her head and straightened it, brushing her hands over it reactively. Grace folded up John's blanket then, and handed it to Amy. Amy settled the blanket on the table as well, reaching into her bag and pulling out her yellow cardigan. She yanked it on and buttoned the first few before she folded up her jeans and stuffed them inside of her bag.

"Why a dress," Grace asked as she leaned against the piano.

Amy shrugged, looking up at Grace, and finally seeing why she was hurt. She had a cut on her head, and on her knee, and various bruises on her body. "It fits easier into my bag. Jeans, a sweater, and a shirt take up too much room. I put the clothes into my locker at the end of a day, and then I keep a pair in the car incase something happens at work and I have to change there."

Grace nodded. Realizing that Amy was looking at the cuts she explained. "Everyone was pushing each other to get out of the school, and I got pushed into the doors. Everyone was running and things were getting thrown, and the door broke somehow. I fell and got cut by a lot of glass. Everytime I walk it just digs in more. There's glass everywhere outside, and I'm afraid to take it out.

Amy nodded, and stepped around her, walking over to Jack. He turned around and handed her a bag. "I found gauze and antibiotic ointment in here; some bandaids, and some other things."

Amy nodded again, walking over to the door and opening it. "Okay. Thanks."

Jack nodded, turning back to the closet. "I'll keep looking and see what else I can find. Can you help Grace?"

Amy settled the bag outside the door and walked back over to Grace, helping her to hop into the band room. Grace unwrapped her arm from Amy's neck and hopped over to a chair so that Amy could grab the bag of the first-aid supplies. She walked over to where Ricky, Ben, and Adrian were sitting on the floor and settled down next to Ricky, dumping the bag out onto the floor. "We've got bandaids, gauze, antibiotic ointment, and bandaging," Amy noted as she picked through the materials. She looked up at Ben a moment later. "Mr. Sedlack keeps water and food in his office for when practices go late. Over there," she pointed to the office across the room.

Ben nodded and stood, walking out of the room. In the meantime, Amy stood and walked back into the office, digging through top drawer of the desk until she found some scissors. Ben grabbed her hand before she could walk out of the room.

"What, Ben?"

Ben smiled, letting her hand go. "I just… I wanted to say I really admire that you're trying to be strong right now. I really respect it."

Amy forced a smile, nodding. "Well thanks. But I need to get back to Ricky."

Ben nodded and handed her a few bottles of water. "So you can clean some of the blood away," he explained.

Amy took the water and thanked him again before walking back out of the room, and back over to Ricky and the girls. She kneeled down next to him again and settled the bottles of water on the floor, using the scissors to cut his jeans. Ricky seethed at the cold scissors against his skin, as well as the fact that they were touching the wound. Once Amy managed to cut the jeans enough to fully see the wound.

"Okay, call me dumb, but I don't know what to do next." Amy tried to speak clearly, but her voice shook at the reality of all that was going on right now. "I need someone to help me."

Ricky cleared his throat, grimacing as he tried to straighten up. "You have to clean away the blood first."

Amy bit her bottom lip as she looked up at him. "Don't strain yourself. You need to rest."

Ricky shook his head, though it pained him. "I'm the only person in this room whose dealt with gunshot wounds. I'm the only person whose waited weeks for stitches. I'm the **only** person that can help you with this. I don't care if it's my body. I know how to properly care for a fatal wound."

Amy dropped the scissors as the word _fatal_ hit her ears. She couldn't handle the idea of discussing this when Ricky had multiple bullet wounds. "I-I need you to not…not talk about that. I ne-need to focus."

Ricky seethed from the scissors hitting his leg, but he reached up and grabbed Amy's hand anyway. He squeezed it as hard as he could, clenching his eyes shut. "Please. Just…Please. Work with me."

Amy nodded, opening one of the water bottles. "Okay. Tell me what to do…."


	2. Broken Window Panes Color Her Eyes In

**NOTE: This chapter is VERY graphic and probably even triggering. The end warrants some pretty deep emotion, so consider yourself warned for the need of tissues. That said, I hope you enjoy. **

_Chapter 2_

_Broken Window Panes_

_Colour Her Eyes In With Black Lines_

Amy leaned back against the wall, sighing heavily. At least three times someone had passed by the door and pounded on it. They knew for sure that one of the times it had been Bob, because he'd screamed for them to let him in.

Everyone was growing restless. Grace had glass in her hands, arms, and legs, and she and Jack done their best to remove as much of the smaller shards without risking removing something that might be blocking massive blood flow. They'd both agreed that Ricky's bleeding was bad enough, and they couldn't risk it.

Grace sat down next to Amy, draping an arm over her. "Breathe, girlie. Its gonna be a long day. I told you that."

Amy shrugged, looking up at Grace. "I'm exhausted already." She paused for a moment, looking down at Grace's bandaged hand. "Distract me. How're you?"

Grace smiled, pulling her arm down from Amy's shoulder. "I'm sore and itchy. But it's nothing a few stitches won't fix. Everyone is worried about you. This is a lot to handle."

Amy shrugged again. "I'm wishing I wasn't here," Amy admitted. She pushed herself to her feet and walked over to the practice room. While she'd and Jack had worked together to bandage up Ricky and Grace the best they could, Adrian and Ben had somehow made the practice room into a makeshift nursery for John. She walked into the room and smiled, seeing John playing with a plush bear that she kept in his bag.

Adrian looked up from where she was sitting on her floor, texting. "He just woke up. How's Ricky?"

Amy shrugged, sitting down next to her son. She picked him up off the floor, smiling as he cooed at her. "Jack and I did the best we could to cover up his arm and leg, but he needs a hospital. I can't stop the bleeding in his neck or his chest," she spoke softly, her voice wavering once again. She dropped her head, kissing the top of John's head. After a minute she looked up at Adrian. "Wh… Why are we stuck here if it was only Bob with a gun?"

Ben chose that moment to speak up, folding and refolding John's blankets to keep his hands busy. "At first that's what everyone said, but a lot of people in different homerooms said they saw other people with guns. Madison said she saw Joe with a gun."

Amy raised an eyebrow, confused. "Joe…The fake ID guy?"

Ben and Adrian both nodded. "Everyone ran in different directions. That's how Grace got pushed through the door. It happened so fast…" Adrian trailed off, shaking her head. "Everyone was determined to get out of the building, but some guys came down the hall and they were shooting. The other two doors shattered. I think some people got hit by the bullets but they made it out."

Amy closed her eyes, trying to convince herself to breathe. She wanted to run away from here and get out. "How did this happen to us? And why now?"

Ben and Adrian didn't say anything, but Amy jumped when her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, seeing a text from Ashley.

_Where are you? Griffin & I hiding in a closet. 2__nd__ floor. _

Amy gulped, flipping her phone open to the full keyboard, and quickly typed back to her sister as she leaned back against the wall so she wouldn't drop John. "We…we're safe in here, and my sister's hiding in a closet. What if something happens to her," she spoke in a rushed manner, obviously freaking out. "I don't understand how any of this happened," she said again.

_------------------_

_There's a superstition_

_To hold on to the hope_

_------------------_

Kids zoomed past the cops and each other. Every five seconds, Reuben was turning around to help another possible victim up from the ground because someone else was shoving them down, trying to get away from the school. In just an hour they'd managed to set up a check-in station where everyone was required to show up and be accounted for. The student roster wasn't what it should have been though; half the students who had been called in sick couldn't be accounted for because no one actually had the time to check the phones before guns started firing. He was checking in every 15 minutes and each time, more and more kids were checking in, but still there was no notice as to where his daughter was, or any of her friends.

His focus was sidetracked as George ran up to him, pulling him aside. "Where's my daughters?"

Rueben huffed, walking around George and back over to the check in station. "As far as I know, neither of our children have checked in, and their friends haven't either. I've been calling Adrian's phone repeatedly, but she hasn't called back." Rueben paused and stopped walking, facing George. "Look. Just go wait and fret with your wife like the rest of us. The minute I hear from Adrian, I'll ask her about your girls. If your girls show up before then, you'll be the first to know _after _they've been checked out by the police."

George huffed, walking away from him, back over to Anne who stood across the lot, kneading her hands like dough. He grabbed her hands to stop her, pulling her into a hug. "We'll find them."

_--------------_

_I'll call you later_

_I need to save her_

_--------------_

Ben threw an empty water bottle against the wall, smiling as it fell into the trashcan. It was clear that everyone was growing restless.

Amy settled John into his car seat, wrapping his blanket tightly around him. He'd fallen asleep not long after she'd given him what was left of his bottle from that morning. Fact of the matter was, however, that they needed to get out of the school.

She shifted off of her heels, onto the floor next to Ricky. Even just an hour and a half of sitting there had drained so much out of him, though it didn't surprise her. He'd lost so much blood, and they were all a bunch of kids. No one really knew how to treat a gunshot wound outside of a hospital, let alone a bunch of high school kids.

Ricky looked up at her wearily, brushing his face against his shirt to wipe away the cold sweat that had since formed. His breathing had grown shallow at some point between her helping to bandage Grace and returning from the practice room.

"I'm exhausted, Amy," he spoke softly. His words were littered like his throat was full of phlegm, but she knew better than that. She knew that they needed to get to the hospital. She forced a smile, grabbing one of John's blankets off the floor and wiping the sweat off of Ricky's face.

"I know. But we'll get out of here soon. You just have to breathe." She turned to face him, unzipping his sweater. They'd cut his t-shirt off and cut it into pieces to wrap around his knee and wrist so in order to slow the bleeding. Even so, he had still continued to bleed profusely through his chest and back.

"_But then it got cold…kinda like right now."_

Amy shuddered, remembering that line from a TV show she didn't remember. She didn't want to think about that right now.

She finally got the zipper down on Ricky's sweater and gently pushed it back to his shoulders. She grimaced as she grabbed the blanket off the floor again and pressed it against Ricky's chest as she pulled him forward. He rested his head against her shoulder, breathing slowly and heavily. Amy used her free arm to remove his sweater.

Jack stood from across the room and walked over, kneeling down next to Ricky. He took the edges of Ricky's sweater and jacket, and pulled them back gently, though it didn't stop Ricky from wincing at the pain that seemed to radiate throughout his upper body. Jack grimaced, pulling back the taped gauze from Ricky's back. "This isn't really helping any. Its just soaking up the blood. We **need** to get out of here."

Amy nodded, letting a tear fall down her cheek. "I know." She tried to stop the blood, but it rushed past her hands and the blanket. He was losing it with every second that passed, and they'd been here too long. If they didn't get to the hospital soon, she wasn't sure her son would still have a father when morning came…

------------------

_Rainy days and Mondays_

_Always get me down_

_------------------_

Ashley ducked back from opening of the doorway, looking up at Griffin.

"So? Is there anyone out there?"

Ashley rolled her eyes, looking back out again. "I don't see anyone," she spoke softly as she stared out the small crack she'd made from opening the door. "I still don't want to chance it."

Griffin huffed, kicking off of the wall. "A three-by-three foot room is not big enough for the two of us, and you promised your sister we'd go downstairs."

Ashley rolled her eyes, keeping them on the outside of the closet. "I know, and that's what worries me. She'd tell me to stay here if it wasn't serious."

Griffin raised an eyebrow at her. "That, or maybe she's actually worried about you. This **is** a serious situation. You **have** grasped that, right?"

Ashley turned her head, glaring at him. "Duh. I just… There's people out there with guns. I'm not going unarmed."

Griffin nodded, and turned around behind him. After a moment of picking through cleaning tools, he placed something in her hand. She took it and slowly pushed the door open. As she stepped out of the room, she leaned back against the wall, looking down both sides of the hallway. Backpacks were construed across it, along with open locker doors, dropped phones that were ringing repeatedly…Everything was in havoc. Ashley's breathing quickened slightly, realizing the reality of this situation.

Griffin squeezed her shoulder, light enough that he wouldn't hurt her, but hard enough to bring her back down into her brain. "Breathe. You can't be freaking out if we're going to attempt to make a break out of this place."

Ashley nodded, taking a heavy breath. She finally looked down at what he'd given her and glared at him again. "A mop? Seriously? We're going to fight gunfire with a mop and broom?"

Griffin smiled, raising an eyebrow. "Well, pending that whoever it is actually gets close enough to us, we can hit the gun out of their hands."

Ashley considered what he was saying and shrugged. "Maybe. But have you considered the fact that people were saying there's more than one shooter?"

Griffin shrugged, looking to his left as Ashley looked to her right. "I'm trying to keep my brain on the fact that we need to get to the band room for some reason."

Ashley nodded again and stepped away from the wall. "I think we should go this way. There's an elevator at the end of the hall, and a stairwell. We can hit the button and then check the stairs, so if anyone is there we can run right away."

Griffin thought about her idea and nodded. "Okay. But if we hear or see anything, we stop right then and there and find an empty room."

Ashley agreed, looking both ways down the hallway again. "Okay. Lets do this."

She stepped away from the wall as well, and Griffin took her hand. They began walking, but soon enough were running down it. He slammed into her when they reached the end of the hall and she threw a hand over her mouth. Griffin looked around her, seeing Lauren passed out at the bottom of the stairs.

"Ashley, we don't have time to save people. Your sister-" 

Ashley quickly cut him off, looking up at him. "Look I know. And I'm hardly dumb and dumber's biggest fans, but they're Amy's best friends. I should do something…" She frowned as she stared at Lauren. Griffin meanwhile, was pounding on the down button of the elevator panel. As the door opened, he looked up at Ashley.

"C'mon. We have to go, now," he begged with her, pulling on her arm.

"Just let me check and make sure she's still alive," she replied, pulling her arm from Griffin's grasp. She walked down the steps slowly, looking over the side of them. Another person was collapsed against the stairs, she assumed whoever he was, was dead, judging by the amount of blood surrounding him. As she leaned down to touch Lauren's neck, a loud pop from outside of the stairwell made her jump. She threw a hand over her mouth to muffle her scream but it was too late. Griffin's eyes went wide as he motioned for her to come back up the stairs.

She patted Lauren's shoulder once, but when she didn't move, she ran up the stairs. Just as she reached the last one, a warm hand gripped her ankle. She dropped against the ground, shaking as tears filled her eyes. She turned her head around to see Lauren in front of her. Her head was split, but she would probably be okay.

"_Help me," _ she spoke the words so softly, Ashley wasn't sure she even heard them. More tears flooded her eyes as she pulled her foot free, hearing footsteps.

"I can't. I'm sorry." She scrambled backwards, finally pulling her foot free of Lauren's grasp, and Griffin yanked her back into the elevator just as someone came around the corner. The elevator doors slammed shut, but she was sure she heard a gunfire as they did….

Her thoughts raced as she leaned back against the wall, wiping the tears from her eyes. She wasn't one to cry, but looking death in the face like that wasn't something she could handle. She could take a lot of things. Hell, she **had** taken a lot of things. She'd watched her sisters life crumble in front of her; she'd watched her family fall apart; she'd watched someone she'd come to love as her brother be tortured by his own blood. But she couldn't stare death in the face. Not like that.

Griffin hugged her, rubbing her back. "Breathe. We still have to make it to the band room."

Ashley nodded. They still had three halls to run down before they would ultimately reach the room. She only hoped that since she'd heard several sets of feet, that whoever had seen her, wasn't running back down to kill them.

The elevator doors slid open and she pushed Griffin's arms back, looking outside. Once again, she saw no one, and it was completely silent. Just like upstairs, there were backpacks everywhere, along with phones, textbooks, and book bags. She stepped out of the elevator and yanked Griffin out behind her. She looked up at him for a moment before they nodded at each other and made a run for it.

In mere seconds, they were curving the end of the hall, but he dropped her hand as she slipped to the floor and through the broken glass doorway. It came swinging back, hitting her in the leg, but she pushed it back, and used it to pull herself to her feet.

Griffin stepped around the dropped water bottle, and the water that surrounded it. He stepped through one of the other broken doors and helped Ashley to her feet. She winced and yanked her hand away from his as soon as she was on her feet. A piece of glass had cut her hand. She would probably need stitches, but she yanked her sweatshirt off and wiped away the blood, thankful to see that no veins had been pierced.

"Take your shoes off," Griffin ordered her. She looked up at him, confused for a moment.

"Why?"

"Because they're wet and you'll slip if you try and walk in them. Take them off and run," he explained.

Ashley nodded, biting her bottom lip as she stared at the doorway at the end of the hall. "We…we could just leave. No one would have to know."

Griffin shook his head. "No. We should help your sister first, and then get out."

Ashley bit her bottom lip as she slipped both her shoes off and handed them to him. "But that guy, Griffin, he-he…he had a gun and he…" Another tear fell down her cheek.

Griffin nodded. "I know. But we should make sure no one in the band room has been shot, and then maybe all of us can make a run for it."

Ashley nodded, knowing he was right. She started walking towards the music hall and looked down it to make sure there was no one with a gun. After that, she once again made a run for it with Griffin behind her. He grabbed her and stopped her from slipping again as they reached the band room. Rather than knock, Ashley dialed Amy's cell and bit her bottom lip as she heard _On The Ride_ by Aly & AJ playing from Amy's cell phone. Amy was quick to answer however.

"_Ashley?" _

Ashley nodded, though Amy couldn't see her. "Open the door. We're here," she spoke rushed. It seemed like forever, but was probably les than a second later when someone threw the door open. Ashley dashed in and Griffin followed, before Ben shut the door just as quickly, careful not to slam it. He locked it and sat down on the floor in front of it. As Ashley looked around, she realized that everyone was sitting with their backs to the wall that the door was on so that they wouldn't be seen. The window was 7 feet off the ground, but still, you couldn't sure.

Amy hugged Ashley tightly, letting a sob finally escape her as she hugged her. Ashley hugged her back just as tightly, but then pulled away as she saw the blood on Amy's shoulder.

"What happened," she spoke rushed again, worried. "Did you get hurt too?"

Amy shook her head, letting go of her sister. She wiped away the tears on her face. "No, I'm fine. What do you mean too?"

Ashley shrugged. "I got cut by some glass by the-"

"The broken doors," Grace asked, speaking up as she looked up from where she was sitting. Ashley nodded.

"Yeah, I slipped. Someone dropped a water bottle and it spilled all over the place."

Jack nodded. "Sorry. That'd be me."

Ashley shrugged again. "Its just…glass…." Her words drifted off as she saw Jack unwrapping bandaging. More importantly, she watched as he wrapped it around Ricky's knee. "He..he needs to go to the hospital," Ashley stammered.

Amy nodded, feeling a lump rise in her throat again. "We know, but we don't know if its safe out there."

Ashley darted her gaze back up from Ricky and Jack to Amy. "I do. I think there were only two or three guys, and they're upstairs." If we go now, we can get out."

Adrian stepped out of the practice room then, stuffing her phone into her pocket. "My dad says some cops are coming in, and we should stay here until he comes to get us. I told him where we are."

Ashley shook her head. "No. Its clear to get out now. We should go **now.**"

Amy gulped, kneeling down next to Ricky as everyone else piped into the conversation. Ben, Grace, and Adrian agreed that they should all stay, but Griffin, Ashley, and Jack were saying that they should leave.

Ricky opened his eyes, looking up at Amy wearily. He'd passed out when she'd pulled him against her so Jack could change the bandage on his back, and hadn't woken since.

"I….wan…ta go…" his words were slow and slurred, and his head dropped back to his shoulder just as fast as he'd lifted it, out cold again.

Amy finally looked back up at everyone, whistling loud so that they would all shut up. "Just go. Everyone get out now. If it's really clear, then you should get out."

Ashley looked down at Amy. "You too. You and John. I won't leave without you."

Amy stood again, hugging Ashley again before she picked John up out of his car seat and placed him in Ashley's arms. "No. You go without me. I won't leave him here alone."

Ashley bit her bottom lip and hugged Amy tightly again. "I love you so much. You have to come out of the school too."

Amy nodded, hugging her sister back, just as tightly, though she was careful not to hurt her son. "I will. We **both** will," she interjected as she looked down at Ricky. Ashley looked down as well and then kneeled down, placing a hand on Ricky's shoulder. He slowly lifted his head up to look at her. He tried to smile, but only managed a to lift a corner of his lip into more of grimace than a smile.

"You'll make it out," she promised. "You don't leave us now."

Ricky nodded as best he could and closed his eyes again, dropping his head once more.

Ashley handed John's car seat to Griffin as Adrian opened the door slightly. She peaked out to make sure there wasn't anyone in the hall and then nodded to everyone.

Amy looked over at Grace. "Are you okay to walk?"

Grace shrugged. "I'll just ignore the pain and run," she insisted. "You'll be okay?"

Amy nodded. "It's just a few minutes anyway, right?"

Everyone nodded, and one by one, they hugged her, and then said something to Ricky until they were all looking out the door again. Amy and Ashley hugged once more and she kissed her son's head again. "Be safe, buddy. And really really quiet until you and aunt Ashley are with grandma and grandpa, okay?"

John nodded once. He might only be 10 months old, but he was smart enough to know what Amy was saying.

"And tell daddy you love him," Ashley whispered to John. He smiled and leaned down patting his fathers head. Ricky l0oked up at him and reached up. His arm shook as he did, but he grabbed John's hand. "I love you, John." His words were strangled and flooded with gurgles, but he spoke them.

"Luh daa-ee."

Amy smiled, feeling a whimper escape her as she kneeled back down next to Ricky. In just a moment, everyone else ran from the room, leaving them sitting there alone. She prayed Ashley would call her when they were to safety.

Ricky looked up at her. "You…should get…your things."

Amy nodded and stood again. Ricky grabbed her leg and she turned around, kneeling in front of him. "What is it?"

"If…" he closed his eyes and his head dropped.

Amy shook her head, rubbing his hand. It was colder than ice, but she kissed his fingers anyway. "No if's. Everything will be okay."

Ricky lifted his head again, shaking it. "N-no. If…something…If some…one comes in here…b-before Adrian's da…ad comes in to get us…don't say any…thing. I don…t want you to ge-get hurt."

Amy shook her head as she wiped sweat off of his forehead again. "No. **No.** I won't."

Ricky stared up at her, more clearly than he had in the last three hours. "Promise," he forced out, slurred, but defiant. Amy knew he wouldn't let this go.

"Okay. I promise."

_---------------_

_If I'm falling, falling apart_

_For you_

_---------------_

It had been more than half an hour since Ashley had reached her parents, but she hadn't let go of John since Amy placed him in her arms. Furthermore her parents hadn't stopped hugging her or asking her questions. They'd been infuriated to find out that Amy stayed with Ricky - not because they were mad at Ricky, but because she was still inside that school while multiple people were carrying guns.

Across the lot, Kathleen and Jeff had joined Grace in an ambulance while a paramedic addressed her wounds and bandaged most of them up. They'd already packed her up to go to the hospital.

Jack had found his parents as soon as he was out of the school, and they'd left the minute he'd given his statement and checked in with the police who had the school roster.

Reuben had insisted Adrian be sent home in a cab the minute he had had her checked over by a paramedic who insisted she only had minor bumps, bruises, and scrapes. Still, she'd fought him, begging to stay until Ricky and Amy were brought out, or until Grace was taken to the hospital for stitches. He'd been reluctant to agree, but was aware that at a time like this, his daughter needed to be with her friends who had just survived what she had, not at home alone.

Ben had spotted Leo not even a second after everyone had stepped out of school. He'd been in the middle of a conversation with a police officer; he assumed it had something to do with donating some sort of help. That had just been the kind of person Ben's father had always been. He didn't really understand it when he himself was selfish in a lot of ways, but he'd been proven right when he reached his father, who was negotiating something with the man who'd been appointed captain to look after the school for the next few days as they conducted their investigation.

The conversation was cut short however, when he realized Ben was standing there, waiting for his father to finish. It was rare that his father hugged him, but in that moment, he hugged him back. They'd all risked their lives to run out of that school, and they'd been lucky to make it out. Like Adrian, he'd insisted that he be able to stay until Amy and Ricky come out of the school, and even to be able to go to the hospital. As per his usual ways, Leo agreed and Ben had taken off over by Grace and Adrian, who were talking about the same thing.

Back at the Juergens' car, George and Anne were both insisting to Ashley that she let a paramedic look at her. She'd been so quick to go from one thing to another that she hadn't realized her hand was the only thing had been cut. She'd also cut her legs and her arm, and though most of them looked minor, her parents kept insisting she see a paramedic. She continued to fight them, insisting that she wasn't moving until Amy and Ricky both came out the door and were with them.

Still, the Juergens and Bowman family had gone completely silent when Reuben made his way into the school building…

Back inside, Amy forced herself to stand, and to stop the tears falling from her face. She knew one thing right now. She wanted to kill Robert Underwood.

She looked out the doorway and gulped, seeing Ricky sitting, or rather, now laying, on the floor. Blood was clearly soaking through the carpet, though as she looked now, it was clear that it already had been when he was sitting up.

Amy wiped her eyes, forcing down the lump in her throat for what felt like the millionth time today, and stepped out of the room. She walked over to Ricky, biting her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, but it was the only way she could keep herself from completely falling apart. She turned Ricky onto his back and then pulled him up as best she could with her hands under his shoulder blades.

"C'mon. Wake up, baby. Wake up." Her voice was strained by the fact that she was basically lifting dead weight. She reached up and wiped the sweat and blood from his face, removing her sweater and using it to wipe off his face. She was amazed that he could still bleed so much when he'd already lost so much blood to begin with.

Ricky lifted his head slowly, groaning as his eyes opened. Amy pushed her left arm up past his shoulder, and cradled his head so that he wasn't holding it and straining it more than he already had considering there was likely a bullet lodged in his neck or back somewhere.

"I need you to help me," Amy spoke clearly to him. She knew she needed to hold his attention to keep him awake. "I-I can't get your jeans…"

Ricky grimaced, letting his head loll in her hand. "You did so good," he slurred.

"No," Amy disagreed. "I didn't. I let this happen."

Ricky closed his eyes again. "Just…put me down…I can…hold…my own weight. Just d…do it quickly." His hips rose less than an inch off the floor, but it was enough for Amy to yank his jeans up and fasten them.

"I want to kill him, Ricky. I want him to be tortured the way he tortured you," she spoke infuriately.

Ricky stared at her with glazed eyes. "Mmm…B…ut he'll go….down for…this."

Amy shook her head. "I'm glad your so proud of that, really, I am. I get it, even. But at the cost of your _life?_" She felt the lump in her throat rising again, and stuffed it down again. "Just…I can't have you die on me."

The door opened at that moment and Amy jumped. She was set and ready to start running for the practice room, but she calmed as she realized it was Reuben. He looked down at her and frowned. "There's a clear shot for the doors, but we have to go right now."

Amy nodded and helped Ricky to sit up again. He leaned against her, and Reuben stepped up behind him, pulling him to his feet. Again, he was like dead weight, but Amy moved around him, taking his right arm over her shoulder. Ricky winced.

"I'm sorry. Its just a few minutes though. We'll get out." Amy apologized.

"Lets just go," he slurred back.

Reuben nodded and opened the door, stepping out into the hall. Amy and Ricky followed slowly behind. Each step required her to take on more of his weight because of his leg, but they made it outside of the room and then out of the music hallway. They were about ten feet from the doors when they all heard footsteps.

"Down!" was all that they heard from Reuben before Amy threw Ricky down and dropped over him, covering his head with her arms and tying her leg over his. She knew she'd knocked him unconscious, but figured his life was worth more now than to let someone kill him in a split second.

Bullets fired. She counted at least five, but it was the piercing snaps that made her jump each time. She suddenly felt like she'd been stabbed in her upper arm, but before she could react, a strong grip pulled her up onto her feet and then shoved her through the doors. She stumbled backwards and hit the ground, scraping her elbows and her lower back, but a police officer pulled her to her feet and then lifted her completely off the ground, running her over to an open ambulance. They insisted on tending to her arm, but she pushed them away, watching the doors.

Ashley, quickly followed by her parents ran over to the ambulance where the paramedics were trying to calm Amy down. Ashley nearly knocked her over as she threw her arms around her, clinging to her. Their parents were slower, but hugged her as well. They were all in tears, including John, but still, she watched the doors that still hadn't opened.

"Amy, you got shot?" Her parents repeated the question over and over, but she couldn't take her eyes off the doors.

It felt like hours, but it was more like two minutes, when the orange doors slowly opened. The backside of a grey Armani suit was the first thing everyone saw. It seemed like the whole crowd of cops, teachers, and students went completely silent as he turned and a full head of black hair could be seen.

A sob escaped Amy's throat as his bloodied body faced every single person standing out there. It had felt like time slowed down to nothing more than milliseconds. Seeing his lifeless body laying there in the arms of an ADA ripped her apart inside.

She couldn't hold back the tears that she had for the last three and a half hours. Whoever said it was only 11:30 in the morning had to be on crack because there was no way this much stress could be put on one person in such a small incriment of time. Her mother and sister held her tightly, trying to calm her.

But she knew they couldn't fix this. They couldn't stop the tears that were falling down her face, or erase this body-eating pain until she knew he was going to survive this.


	3. Where's Your Heart In This Matter

**A/N:** As you guys may have noticed, I'm trying to make posting a once-a-week thing, between Tuesday and Thursday. Right now, at the length that the chapters are, it takes about that long to write them, and I plan to keep it that way.

On the other hand, I have one small request. With each chapter, the number of you guys subscribing to the story has grown substantially. And I don't mean to sound picky, but reviews are the juice to push me to update sooner. I try never to for reviews, but I'm loving this story just as much as you guys are, and I really appreciate hearing what you think, what you like/dislike, and so on.

DISCLAIMER: I really need to learn to remember to put these things in here. I don't own TSLOTAT, I don't own the characters, I don't own anything, blah blah blah.

_Chapter 3_

_Where's Your Heart  
In This Matter_

Adrian stared at the wall, trying just to keep her eyes open at this point. It was packed with family members of many students. Some wanted to know how their children were doing. Most wanted to know if Ricky was still alive. And if he was, they wanted to know if he would continue to stay that way.

Grace walked into the room, or rather, hobbled, limping from the glass that had been stuck in her knee for most of the day. She'd gone on a coffee run with Jack with some of the other students who were still waiting to hear about their friends. Somehow some of the restaurants in town had caught wind of this fact, and were sending food, water, and coffee down to the hospital, free of charge. While the parents of the actual injured students appreciated it, everyone seemed to agree on the fact that they just wanted to be left alone to find out what was going on with their children.

Conversation floated slowly through the room, mostly about who was there for what, and if they'd heard anything. Ricky and Amy were popular subjects due to their gunshot wounds, but Adrian, Ben, Jack, and Grace knew that was only because their exit of the school had been shown on national television.

The dozens of people who made it out after were left unnamed to everyone else but the police. The obsession of people wanting to know Ricky and Amy's names and health status appalled their families and friends, but as the police continued to remind them that at this point, people around the world had made connections to these kids because they saw their faces and their bodies. They saw Amy's emotion. As far as the Juergens' were concerned, their daughter had been robbed by the media of her ability to grieve.

Anne Juergens walked into the waiting room, and most of the students and parents stood. She sighed heavily, shaking her head. "We don't know much. They're both still in surgery."

She paused for a moment, looking over at Grace and Adrian. They both stood and walked over to her, quickly followed by Ben as she walked towards the elevators. She stepped into one of them, and the three kids followed. Once the doors were shut, Anne slumped against the side of the elevator. Grace handed her one of the cups of coffee, and then sipped her own.

Anne took a drink of the coffee before thanking her and standing up straighter. "This conversation doesn't leave this elevator. The police are already concerned about the media turning this into something its not."

Adrian, Grace, and Ben all nodded synonymously. Anne sipped the coffee she was given again and then spoke.

"Amy is coming out of surgery now. The doctors actually dared to say she was _lucky_ because no major arteries were hit. She'll be in recovery for an hour or two. Listen you guys should really go home and get some rest. Its only 2:30...Its going to be a long day and night."

"No," Ben defied before the girls could. "Ricky, Amy…they're our friends."

"What about Ricky," Adrian interjected.

Anne shrugged. "They won't tell us much. His parents are still trying to get down here, but the media circus-"

Grace looked up at that moment and chose to speak. "My step dad is a doctor. He can find out."

Anne shook her head. "No. Its not right for us to find out before his parents know."

Adrian fought back, standing up straight. "We're just as much Ricky and Amy's family as anyone actually related to them is. We have the right to know!"

Grace grabbed Adrian's arm, shaking her head. "Calm down, Adrian. We're all upset."

"This isn't fair!!! We're their family too," she growled.

The elevator doors opened at the moment, and Anne stepped away from the wall. "I'm sorry. I have to take care of my family. As soon as we know something, I'll make sure you know."

She stepped out of the elevator and walked away, surprised that they didn't follow her. People looked up at her as she walked past, well aware of who she was, as the cameras had followed Amy to the ambulance and saw her family bombard her.

Anne walked into the cafeteria and stopped short of the doorway, searching for her other daughter. The original plan had been to send Ashley home to take care of Robbie, but every time she had headed for the doors, it was like the media automatically knew, and they started turning on their cameras and microphones again.

Ashley looked up at her from across the room and turned her iPod off, waving her mother over. Anne walked over to her and sat down, handing her coffee over. "Did you call someone to take care of your brother?"

Ashley shrugged, sitting back in her seat. "Ben called his dad right after we got here. They went and picked up John from the day care and then grabbed Robbie too."

Anne nodded. Too much was going on today for them to be worried about the boys, but they were anyway. "Okay. At some point, can you run home and get some clothes for everyone? We're going to be here at least over night."

Ashley nodded, moving her hand to her hair. She pulled it away when she felt the gauze on her wrist. "I keep…forgetting that it was a school shooting. That its more than just Amy and Ricky who got hurt."

Anne nodded again, reaching across the table. She grabbed Ashley's hand and squeezed it lightly. "Do you want to go home? Where's Griffin?"

Ashley shook her head right away. "No, I want to stay here. I'll call him when I have to go home, but…." She trailed off, pulling her hand away from her mothers as she wiped tears from her eyes. "It's scary, mom. Griffin pulled me into the elevator when someone came up the stairs. I knew they had guns. They were bragging."

"I think you and Amy should get into counseling after today. I think the whole **school** should be in counseling after today."

Ashley and Anne both looked up to see George about five feet away, sipping a cup of water. He walked over and sat down next to Ashley, hugging her. "I'm not saying you or your sister are nuts. But I think we all saw the effects of having a gun pointed at you did to her, and its clear you're not okay either."

Ashley hugged her father back. "I'm exhausted. I just want to fall asleep."

Anne squeezed her hand again. "We're not allowed back in Amy's room until she's in it. Why don't you go home and change? We'll call you if something changes."

Ashley shook her head again. "I don't want to go alone. And what about Ricky?"

Anne and George both dropped their gaze, but Ashley pressed it. "Come on. We're his family too. We love him."

George nodded, looking up at her. "You're right. We are his family too, and we do love him. But the doctors aren't giving us much."

"I'm not going to tell anyone. I just…I need a rest on my conscience. Right know you're only telling me as much as you're telling the media. Nothing."

Anne looked up then. "We only know that he's stable. And honestly, I'd rather not share much more information in the cafeteria, where we're surrounded by cops and reporters," she whispered. "When Amy's awake, we should know something more. In the meantime, do you know how to get a hold of Ricky's parents?"

Ashley shrugged. "The number is in Amy's phone. Do you have it?"

Anne reached under the table, and then brought her hand back up a moment later with Amy's phone. "Call them. Find them. The back roads behind the hospital are where they're letting victims leave. Tell them to come in through the back doors. They'll have to show ID. Call Jack too, and ask if he can come and get you."

Ashley concurred, taking Amy's phone. "Alright. Write me a list of things you guys and Amy need. I'll meet you upstairs to get them." She stood, already scrolling through Amy's contacts. "Ten minutes?"

Anne and George both nodded and stood as well. They walked out of the room in the opposite direction that Ashley was…

_------------  
I lost my way home  
Looking at myself  
Searching for nothing  
------------_

Ashley ran into the house, shaking from the rain on her clothes. Jack followed slowly behind her, standing in the kitchen while she rustled through drawers.

"I'll be ten minutes. I have to change and then grab clothes. Are you going back to the hospital?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know yet. I feel like I'd just be taking up more space. There's already so many people there."

Ashley nodded, looking up at him as she headed for the stairs. "Yeah, but you're Ricky's friend too."

Jack shrugged, following her as they continued their conversation. When they reached the top of the stairs, he sat down on the top step, while Ashley ran into her room and shut the door, leaving it only slightly ajar as she changed into fresh clothes. About a minute later, she ran out of the room in a pair of blue jeans and an unzipped hoodie with a t-shirt promoting some band on it.

She ran into her parents room and grabbed two duffel bags before she ran back to her room and stuffed clothes into the bag. Jack watched, her surprised at the how quickly she moved. She ran out of her room and into Amy's room, stuffing fresh clothes in the bag for her as well, and then back into her parents room. When she exited the room, she ran into the bathroom and stuffed toothpaste and capped toothbrushes into a zip-lock bag, and then threw them into the bag as well. She zipped it tightly and tossed the bag at Jack.

"Everything's in here? You're absolutely positive?"

Ashley nodded. "I made sure I grabbed it all. Wait here while I pack a bag for John and Robbie."

Jack forced a laugh, shaking his head at her. "I'm not sure I understand your energy after a day like today."

Ashley popped her head out of the nursery. "Its not energy. I've got so much anxiety running through me right now, if I don't do something, I'll cry. I don't feel like shedding tears."

Jack nodded, sitting back down on the stairs. "Do you have an umbrella?"

Ashley walked back out of the room and set the smaller duffel bag on the floor before she walked back into her bedroom. She walked out a minute later with a black umbrella. "Here. I think I've got everything, so lets go."

Jack stood, carrying the bigger bag down the stairs, and Ashley followed slowly behind him. When they were outside, Ashley stopped him. "Remember, I have to get food from the dairy shack for my family," she spoke as she popped her umbrella up.

Jack nodded again, and followed her back down to his car…

_------------  
Courage is,  
When you make a change  
But you find the strength  
Anyway  
-----------_

_Tick. Tock. Click. Clack_.

The clock made her want to throw a shoe to knock it off the wall. It was the most annoying sound, but her sister had her iPod, so she was screwed to listening to nothing but silence. Beyond that, she didn't know where her parents were, or what was going on with anyone. Every time she got up, the heart monitor went off, and the nurses wouldn't let her go anywhere.

The door opened and Amy groaned, kicking her blankets off. She ripped the stickies off her chest from the heart monitor and stood, hopping off the opposite side of the bed that the nurse was on. "I'm getting out of here. I'm tired of just stting here and not knowing where my family is," she insisted.

The nurse shook her head. "Your family just stepped out for a few minutes. They'll be back soon."

Amy shook her head. "I don't care anymore! I'm done sitting here with no one to talk to-"

The door opened again and Ashley stepped in, quickly followed by her parents. "Amy, calm down."

Amy shook her head continuously. "No. No, I want to see him. I want to see him now!!!"

Anne walked over to Amy stabling her on her feet. "Amy, he's not even awake yet. And you just woke up. You nee-"

"I need to see him! I was the last person with him before we came out of school. I need to be with him, to know he's okay! He asked me to marry him!" Amy insisted.

Everyone fell silent as her words hung in the air, like they were burning something.

Amy shook her head, feeling tears in her eyes. "He was almost dead. He asked me to marry him, and all I did was push him to the floor," she whimpered.

"Amy, that doesn't make you a bad person," her mother droned.

Amy shook her head. "I want to go. Now."

Anne sighed heavily, looking to the nurse.

"I need to take her vitals and make sure she's okay. And you said she'd like to change. I can find out if he's back in his room," she tried to compromise.

Amy sat down on the bed, shaking her head. "This isn't fair."

Anne walked over and hugged her. "I know. And I know this whole day hasn't been fair to either of you. But you need to calm down. You'll rip your stitches."

Amy shook her head, biting her bottom lip. Tears ran down her cheeks faster than she could breathe well enough to calm down. "He could've died, and it would've been my fault," she whimpered.

Ashley walked over and hugged her sister. "It would have been Bob, and Joe, and everyone else in that school who had a gun. It would have been **their** faults! This was NOT your fault."

Amy shook her head. "But I should have taken him out when you guys went out. We shouldn't have waited almost another hour."

George kicked off the wall, walking over to his eldest daughter. "You can't blame yourself for how long you were inside that school. No one can be. Its clear that it wasn't safe."

Anne stood, walking over to the closet near the door. She opened it and dug through one of the duffel bags before pulling out a pair of pyjama pants and a t-shirt for Amy. "Why don't you get changed, and then we'll see about Ricky."

Amy wiped her tears, nodding. She turned to Ashley as she stood up. "Will you help me?"

Ashley nodded. "Sure."

Anne headed for the door, pulling George out behind her. "We'll be back in a few minutes," she spoke softly as she exited the room with her ex-husband. She checked her watch and shook her head. "I have to go pick up John and Robbie from the 'Sausage Prince's' house. Talk to the doctors about how Ricky's doing."

George grabbed Anne's arm as she turned around, turning her back to face him. "You can't blame yourself for this. Neither of us could have known that this would happen today."

Anne shook her head at him. "No, but the last thing we should have been doing this morning is yelling at the two of them. The last thing we should have done to Ricky after all he's been through lately is yell at him for willing to take John to daycare and Amy to school."

George nodded, loosening his grip. "Don't beat yourself up. What's done is done."

"Yeah. What's done is done and Ricky could die because of it." She pulled her arm completely free of his grip and walked away.

George sighed, turning around. Amy's nurse was headed for the door, but he stepped in front of her. "I'd wait. My other daughter is helping her change."

The nurse nodded, flipping the chart she was holding, open. "I checked in with Mr. Underwood's guardians, and they seem to be okay with your daughter sitting with him. They asked that you stay as well though, because they have to make a run home."

George nodded again, and the nurse stepped around him, walking into the room as Ashley opened the door. She stepped aside, sitting down in a chair against the wall as the nurse checked Amy's vitals. Still, Amy was restless to sit there while the nurse examined her. "Are you almost done," she whined.

The nurse stepped back, raising an eyebrow at Amy. "Okay, I understand the stress you're under, **however;** listen. You were lucky to not have had a lot more damage done to your body. Just because you had a small wound, doesn't change the gravity of what that bullet did. That bullet hit your elbow and shattered most of your ulna, radius, and humerus. In human terms…we had a lot of reconstructing to do."

Amy rolled her eyes. "I get that I was hurt. I honestly don't care, though. The person I love most in this world could have died today, and that would have been my fault! And beyond that, my son was in just as much danger by being there with us."

The nurse nodded. "Okay." There wasn't really anything anyone could stay to understand or relate to how Amy was feeling. Today wasn't exactly normal.

Amy hopped off the bed, holding her left arm close to her body as she walked over to the door. Ashley followed slowly behind, holding onto the IV pole that Amy didn't seem to care much about.

The nurse caught up to them, and led them to the elevators. Amy huffed at the groups of people, waiting to use them, that were staring at her. She turned the other way, facing her family, but she was just as dissatisfied when the nurse began to speak.

"You need to be in the wheelchair," she insisted.

Amy groaned and plopped into it dramatically, crossing on leg over the other. While they were waiting, she moved the IV pole from it's stand, to the wheelchair, and clamped it onto the wheelchair.

The elevator finally chimed, and the nurse pushed Amy inside. George and Ashley followed in behind them, and before anyone else could try to step in, George pushed the door-closing button.

The trip up three floors was silent. Ashley picked at her nail polish while George and the nurse darted their gazes around the small space. Amy swung her foot lightly back and forth, sighing heavily as the doors slid open.

The nurse pushed her wheelchair down the hall, past the nurses station, and into the CCU (Critical Care Unit). She led the Juergens down another hall, before she stopped in front of a door and knocked lightly. Amy looked up, reading the number on the wall; 642. She would remember that.

A moment later, the nurse opened the door, and pushed Amy inside. Before she got past the doorway however, her beeper went off. She reached down and grabbed it off her scrubs, reading the message on it. She stepped back, and walked back over to the door. "I have to take this. If you need something, call the nurses station and ask for Billie."

With that, she left the room. Ashley pushed Amy's wheelchair over the bed, though Amy was quick to move out of it, and into the chair next to the bed instead.

Margaret walked into the room a moment later, smiling as she saw Amy. "Amy. How're you feeling?"

Amy simply shrugged. "Nothing important. How's Ricky?"

Margaret nodded, smiling. "I figured that'd be your first question." She walked over to the table by Ricky's bed, picking up her jacket. "He's stable. The doctors said they wanted to wait for his blood volume to be safe before they did any major surgeries."

Amy gulped, letting go of her arm to reach up and hold Ricky's hand. The warmth of his hand surprised her; it was a far cry from the iciness that she'd felt just a few hours earlier. "M-major surgery?"

Margaret smiled once again. "Its nothing we need to worry about tonight. The doctors said he's been doing well, and there's been some residual bleeding, but that's to be expected, considering. He may not wake up until tomorrow. Now I have to run home and get him some things, and Shakur was planning on coming back up. Is there anything we can get any of you?"

Amy's focus dropped back to Ricky as soon as she changed the subject, not really caring about anything else.

George shook his head. "We've got everything we need here, and Anne went to pick up John and Robbie from the Boykewich's."

Margaret nodded, pulling her jacket on. "Ashley? Amy?"

Ashley shook her head, but Amy simply stared at Ricky. Ashley rolled her eyes, looking up at Margaret. "That's her way of saying no."

With that, Margaret walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Amy stared at Ricky silently, running her fingers against the back of his left hand. His other arm laid across his ribs, bound by two straps; one wrapped around his upper arm just above his bicep, and the second wrapped around his forearm, about an inch above the final bullet wound he'd received. It bound him in a way that the wound to his shoulder and wrist would heal faster.

His leg, however, rested on top of the blankets. Due to the fact that the bullet wound was to his knee, the doctors had simply placed a knee splint on his leg until the could properly do surgery. The cut on his forehead had been stitched and bandaged upon his arrival to the hospital, before the doctors had begun their multitude of tests, x-rays, and bullet removals.

After about half an hour, Anne arrived with John and Robbie, but not much conversation followed, still. Amy sat with John in her lap, and they both watched Ricky, as if something might change at any moment. Amy knew better than that, but she couldn't help praying that he'd wake up anyway.

Margaret and Shakur eventually showed up as well, though Amy wasn't sure when. Not long after her mother arrived with the boys, Billie had come in to give her another dose of pain medication, and she'd sinced grown more weary and weak by the minute.

When she finally dozed off, George lifted her from the chair she'd been sitting in and carried her back to her room, with Anne following close behind him with the wheelchair…

Once Amy was settled into her bed, Anne left the room, and George followed her as she walked back to the elevators, down to the main floor, and then out of the hospital.

The rain had stopped at some point, but the sun was only beginning to fall. It was probably only around 6 PM but somehow the day felt so much longer than that. She was exhausted.

"Things will be fine," George tried to calm her.

Anne shook her head. "Our daughter could have died today. Her boyfriend almost **did**. And Ashley-"

George shook his head. "Don't go there, Anne. Don't think about what might have been. Everyone is still alive. That's what matters."

_----------  
I am human  
And I need to be loved  
----------_

Amy jumped at the sound of an alarm going off down the hall. Her vision was clouded and blurry, which terrified her. She rubbed her eyes , blinking a few times, and her vision cleared. Once again, she was alone.

She looked around, realizing she was back in her room. She had only been in the hospital a few hours, but she was already growing annoyed. The PA system was constantly going off for one person or another, alarms went off like one, after another, after another.

Amy looked up at the clock and groaned. It was almost 11 PM. She didn't understand why her family wasn't in the room with her, but a part of her didn't care.

She pushed herself off the bed and grabbed the IV pole, dragging it with her as she walked to the door and peered out. Doctors were walking up and down the halls, but her family and nurse were nowhere in sight. She smiled and stepped out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her. Amy wasted no time making her way to the elevators. Unlike several hours ago when people had been crowded around the elevator doors, now there was nobody there.

The doors opened swiftly and she stepped inside, pushing the button for the sixth floor. She leaned against the wall as it rose three floors. Her arm throbbed, but she was too restless to be alone, and she wasn't going to act like a sitting duck.

The elevator chimed and Amy stood up straight again, grabbing her IV pole. She walked out of the elevator and ducked by the corner, looking around it once again, to make sure her parents weren't in sight. She then walked down the hall, and did the same thing, before she made the final turn to the hall Ricky's room was in.

The door was slightly ajar, and there was music coming from inside the room. She pushed the door open slightly, and smiled as she saw that no one else was in the room. Well, not _technically_. John lay in his pack 'n' play on the floor, and Robbie was laying on the other side of it. Both were asleep.

She walked into the room and around Ricky's bed, to the side where the chair was. She pondered sitting in it for a moment, but instead settled on the bed, and rested her head against Ricky's shoulder. She pulled his arm up and held his hand, resting comfortably for the first time that night…


	4. Tracing Patterns Across A Personal Map

**A/N:** I am SO!!!!! Sorry! I didn't mean for this chapter to be such a long wait. The last two weeks have been so busy that I've barely had time to write, and I've been trying to with every free moment I get.

As promised, I touched on how everyone else was doing in this chapter. I really hope you enjoy it. There is definitely more to come soon, and this chapter takes the drama down a few notches, to give your little hearts a rest ;). And not to worry, we'll get really moving in a few chapters, once we get past the initial "omgah how is this person doing, are they okay, they'll survive, right?" emotions.

In the meantime, sit back, relax, and enjoy.

AND DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!! :)

_Chapter 4_

_Tracing Patterns Across A Personal Map_

The rustle of people talking, and shuffling in and out of the room awoke him, sometime early in the morning. It started out slowly. He could hear people talking about him, and about her. Everyone kept talking about GSW victims, whatever that meant. Outside the room, some people were arguing about something, and an alarm went off down the hall.

But the more he surfaced from his drugged sleep, the more pain he felt. It started in his leg, and then moved into his arm. Before long, it spread to his back, neck, and chest. Something in the room began to beep quickly, and loud. He could feel his body tense under the blanket draped over half his body. After about a minute, he felt a cold stream of liquid in his arm, and then the beeping slowed to a normal, regulated beat. Once it did, he began to feel the fullness of the pain throbbing in his body.

He tried to move, but the pain only got worse. He felt like he was wide awake, but he hadn't even opened his eyes. He groaned loudly, and his eyes fluttered, but he squinted from the bright light hitting his eyes. His eyes fluttered again, and everything faded in like a blurry movie.

First he saw the light from the window, and then Amy, laying faced away from him. Her gray t-shirt told him that she'd been awake earlier, maybe last night.

Ricky looked above him and saw the heart monitor - the source of all the beeping he'd been hearing.

He finally turned his head, wincing at the throbbing pain in his neck that reminded him that his whole body was hurting. He winced, four different voices chiming in at once. Shakur and Margaret were asking if he was okay, and he couldn't quite make out what Amy's parents were saying. Ashley lay sleeping on a cot at the foot of his bed.

"Pain," was all he said, and Shakur had left the room. Everything that was going on bewildered him. Why was he here? Didn't they have school today? Something wasn't right.

Margaret stood from where she sat at a table with Anne and George, and walked over to the bed. She reached up and grabbed Ricky's hand. He tried to squeeze hers, but could barely muster any strength to move his fingers.

"What happened?"

Margaret smiled lightly, brushing her thumb over the back of his hand. "What do you remember?"

Ricky forced a shrug, trying to sit up. Margaret reached across the bed and pushed the button to sit the bed up. "Umm…I left the school counselors office and got a text from Amy. I got pushed into a locker by some kids and got hit in the face," he winced, feeling a throb in his face as if his body knew what he was talking about. "Then I went to the band hallway and I… I don't know, I heard some really loud pops. After that, it gets really fuzzy." Ricky winced again, feeling a full-body throb wrack through him. "Everything else is just…pieces."

Shakur walked back in with Billie, who was carrying a small vial of medication. She screwed it on to the open IV line and the medication administered into Ricky's IV. He shivered once again as the cold liquid ran into his vein, remembering the feeling from when he was waking up. Billie smiled and cupped his left hand, rubbing it between her own. "Your body temperature is still stabling. If your hands or feet are feeling cold, that's why," she explained, though his icy fingers already told her that was the case.

Ricky furrowed his brow, confused. "Temperature stabling? Why?"

Margaret sighed heavily. "There was a shooting at the school yesterday."

Ricky scrunched his face even more, shaking his head. "N-no. No, I got hit in the head-"

Margaret cut him off, shushing him gently. "Sweet heart, there was. Your arm, your leg-"

Ricky shook his head again. "No." None of this made any sense to him. How could a shooting have happened? He groaned and threw his head back against the pillow, closing his eyes.

"_Shouldn't we help him?!" Someone screamed as another person kicked the kid on the floor, and other stepped on him, all in a rush to get out of the building. _

"_Just leave him. He's dead at this point anyway," someone else screamed. _

The memories in his head cut to something else quickly, before he could even grasp who was saying what.

"_This isn't really helping any. Its just soaking up blood. We __**need**__ to get out of here." _

_  
"I know." _

--

"_You did so good." Pain radiated through his body so badly, he wasn't sure he could feel anything else._

"_I didn't. I let this happen." _

Ricky opened his eyes, still not entirely sure that what he'd heard was true, but the little he remembered did piece some parts together.

"The doctors said bits and pieces will come back at different times," Margaret spoke softly. "It might be a while before you remember fully what happened."

Ricky nodded, looking down at his arm for the first time, and then his leg. Both were so heavily bandaged from the gunshot wounds that he could barely see any part of either one of them, though he did notice the bruising that coated both of them. _Probably from being trampled and drug around,_ he guessed.

Ricky looked back up at his mother, not wanting to ask about Bob, but he knew he had to. He had to know if Amy had told them what happened after everyone else left. "What about…Bob," he asked, forcing his 'fathers' name past his lips. Saying that name was like swallowing poison if you asked him.

Margaret smiled. "He's on the medical floor. Apparently they had some trouble disarming him, but as soon as he's released, he'll be booked into jail. Court proceedings probably won't start for a few months, because the Superintendent wants to press charges for endangering the welfare of all the students."

Ricky shook his head, feeling like she wasn't getting what he meant. "But what about-"

Margaret shook her head. "The doctors did a **full** examination. It took a while, with all the blood loss, but they did it. Now I have to run home for a few hours with Shakur. You'll be okay here with Amy and her family?"

Ricky nodded, slumping down as he laid back against the pillows again. He was sure someone was going to lecture him now.

Margaret kissed his forehead and smiled, patting his hand before she walked over to the table where Anne and George were still sitting. She slipped her coat on and walked out of the room with Shakur.

Ricky closed his eyes, exhaling heavily as the pain medication began to set in. It didn't completely wipe out all the pain he was feeling, but just mostly made him numb. "Are my toes moving," he mumbled, though his eyes were closed.

George raised an eyebrow at him, laughing lightly. "Yeah, why? It was a shot to the knee. I'm sure your parents would have stuck around if there was bad news like if you were paralyzed."

Ricky's eyes shot open and he whipped his head around, looking over at the Juergens. George raised his hands in a surrendered motion.

"Hey, I said if. You've got a couple of rounds of surgery to look forward to today, but that's about it. You'll be walking again in a few months, but you'll probably be in a wheelchair for a while, given that you can't use your arm for crutches." George paused for a moment, raising his eyebrow at Ricky. "Now what was up with that question you asked?"

Ricky shrugged only his left shoulder. "Dunno. Most of my body is going numb. I just wanted to make sure."

A heavy silence fell over the room for a bit as Ricky stared at the wall in front of him. He wasn't quite sure what to say to the Juergens, when the last time he'd seen them, he'd been getting yelled at for even being in their home. _"Be careful what you wish for, or you just might get it,"_ he mumbled softly.

George and Anne looked up when Ricky whispered, both having heard what he said. They looked at each other, and then back at him after a moment. "What?"

Ricky sighed heavily, looking over at them. "I used to tell my parents that sometimes I wish Bob had killed me, after he'd done all he had."

Anne and George both nodded, understanding what he meant, at least loosely. Ricky stared at the wall again, wishing this dense silence would just stop. It was so thick, he was sure he could cut it with a knife.

"So you're seconds from death and you decide to ask my daughter to marry you, without my blessing," George exclaimed.

Ricky couldn't help but smile, vaguely remembering the words passing his lips right before she'd stepped out of his grasp and he'd fallen to the floor. "I didn't know if I was going to survive. I wanted her to know I was in this for good."

George raised an eyebrow at his possible future son-in-law. "Well I hope you know that the entire time, the only thing she was thinking was that she had nearly killed you and the only thing that mattered was that she'd pushed you."

Ricky shrugged, finally turning to face them. "Whatever. She pushed me. It hurt a lot less than anything else that happened yesterday. In my personal opinion, I'd been wanting to be unconscious since the first time I was shot yesterday. By the time my head hit that tile floor, it was kinda nice."

"Only you could find the humour in something so dark."

Ricky, Anne, and George all looked up to see Ashley pushing herself into a seated position on the cot at the end of Ricky's bed. She yawned and lightly stretched before running her fingers through her mussed hair. "I was hoping yesterday had been a bad dream."

"At least you remembered," Ricky retorted.

Ashley raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't remember yesterday?"

Ricky shrugged. "Bits and pieces. I remember getting to school, getting Amy's text, and going into the band hallway. Everything else is a blur."

Ashley nodded, taking in what he was saying. "But you remember proposing to my sister?" She smirked, shaking her head at him as she teased him. The minute she'd heard Amy say that the day before, she knew Ricky would be catching hell from George.

"Is this what I'm going to be known for, for the next few years? They guy who didn't get the blessing from the father," Ricky questioned.

George smirked. "It's a step up, don't you think? From the kid who knocked up a 14 year old, to the guy who got with the girl he knocked up, and then asked her to marry him without the grandfather's blessing."

Ricky shook his head, covering his eyes with his left hand. "I'm never going to live any of this down. My grandchildren will be telling this story. They'll be saying I belonged in a mental institution."

"Well you are certifiable most days, these days," Ashley egged George's teasing.

Ricky rolled his eyes. "I give up. Three against one is no match for me on any day."

Anne stood then, turning her watch over. "I'm going to go get some coffee and breakfast for everyone. Wake Amy?"

Ashley nodded, throwing her legs over the side of the cot. She stood as her parents walked out of the room and stretched fully, shaking her arms and legs a bit to get the blood flowing.

Ricky looked over at Amy, watching her back waist rise and fall as she faced away from him. "I really hope she's okay."

Ashley walked around his bed, sitting on the side of it, at the foot of it and pulled her legs up with her. "She was pretty out of it when dad moved her last night. The doctors kept upping her morphine."

Ricky raised an eyebrow at Ashley. "Why's she on pain killers?"

Ashley whipped her head around to look at Ricky, surprised. "Uh, because she was shot? She got hit when she threw your arm over you. You don't remember?"

Ricky's eyes went wide at her. "One, she was stupid to do that, and two…no. I was unconscious the minute I hit the floor."

Ashley considered that fact, tilting her to the side as she looked back over at Amy, and then nodded. "Well she said it was better for her to take one wound, than for you to be shot in the head. She was terrified you were going to die before you got out of school."

Ricky simply stared at Amy, trying to swallow away the guilt that he felt for putting her through that much agony the day before.

"I'm not sure she would have been okay if you hadn't," Ashley continued. "You….everyone looks at her and says 'oh she's so strong because she's a teenage mother', but she's got zip for self esteem. I'm not sure the idea of even staying on this planet for another minute would have mattered to her."

Ricky shook his head, though he still kept his gaze on his girlfriend. "She would have gotten through it. Amy may not have much for self esteem, but she's got a strength I haven't seen in anyone else. She pulled through everything, even when all she wanted was for someone to rescue her. She made it through all of last year, and this year too. She's got more in her than you give her credit for."

Ashley shrugged. "You two carry each other more than either of you see. You give each other a strength that I haven't seen others be able to do. Like…soul mates."

Ricky smiled, feeling a blush fill his face from behind his ears. He rested his head back against the pillow, yawning. Though he felt better than he had the day before, he still physically felt very weak and low on energy.

Ashley hopped off the bed and walked over to Amy, a few feet away, and sat down next to her, gently shaking her. Amy simply groaned, turning her face further into the pillow, hiding under her web of matted hair and away from the light, and into the pillow her head was on.

Ashley chuckled softly, shaking her head. She shook Amy again, leaning over so she was right over her sister's ear. "Wake up, sleepyhead. Your boyfriend wants to see you."

Amy groaned again, pulling the blankets even tighter around her; or at least as best she could, trying to fight the reality of being awake. Ashley turned around, facing Ricky again, and settled comfortably near Amy's legs. After about half a minute, Amy suddenly whipped her head around, throwing a hand into her wildly messed hair. She sat up just as quickly, looking up at her sister, and then over at Ricky. Ashley couldn't move fast enough as Amy flew off the bed and the six feet between her and Ricky, flinging herself into his arms.

Ricky winced at the sudden force on his body, but he welcomed her warmth, breathing heavily in the scent of her shampoo. Amy clung to him, unable to hold back the sobs that she hadn't already let out the day before, and Ricky soothed her, trying to calm her. He should have expected this.

After about a minute, Amy pulled back, wiping her tears away. She was going through a full range of emotions so fast, she couldn't get a hold of herself. One minute she wanted him to hold her, the next, she wanted to yell at him, and then she wanted to kiss him, to slap him, to scream, to cry… She grabbed his hospital gown and pulled him forward about a foot, pressing her lips tightly to his as she wrapped her right arm around him, careful of his wounds that she knew all too much about.

When she couldn't breathe anymore, which didn't take long, she pulled away from him, gasping for air, and rested her head against his. Ricky's fatigue got the best of him and he fell back against the bed, letting Amy's face fall against his chest. She closed her eyes, trying to stop another set of fresh tears from falling. They were safe now, and he was alive. So why couldn't she just get it together?

Amy finally sat up again a few minutes later and looked at Ricky, biting the inside of her bottom lip. Normally she probably would have chewed the outside of it, but their fall had caused a cut on the outside of her lip. It wasn't deep enough for stitches, but enough that it hurt her, and the doctors were watching it for infection.

Ricky reached his left hand up, brushing his thumb over the scab just below her lip. Amy winced slightly, but she didn't move. "Tell me what happened. Everything after being in the hallway is a blur."

Amy took in a slow, deep, breath, and nodded, lacing her right hand in his left. "Jack said that a lot of people were running up and down the halls and you got pushed around and kicked a lot. Adrian came in with Grace I guess because she helped her when the door gave way-"

Ricky cut her off, shaking her head. "Door?"

Amy shrugged. "One of the glass doors by the main office hallway. I think they were all broken before the end of the day though. There was glass everywhere. Jack said he dropped his water bottle and-"

"And I slipped on the water and got cut too," Ashley finished her sentence.

Amy nodded, pulling her hand away to brush her hair back. "My parents yelled at me after you left yesterday, so they made me bring John to school and told me to have you drop him off. Most of first and second period I was waiting for you to show up, and then Ben came in and told me what happened. I wanted to find you, but then Adrian and Grace came in, like I said, and we were helping her, and then Jack came in with you, and I freaked out and hugged you."

Ricky nodded, slightly remembering her hug and how he'd slumped against her body from the pain.

"Most of the rest of the time was spent trying to keep you awake and alive. Ashley came down right before we left," Amy finished.

"And what about everyone else? Are they okay? What about Bob? Did he hurt you? **At all?**"

Amy shook her head. "I don't know. And no. I did as you asked."

Ricky nodded, closing his eyes again.

"Grace, Adrian, and Ben said they'd be back today. I heard mom talking to them last night," Ashley chimed in again as she hopped off of Amy's bed and walked over to the bathroom. "I'm gonna shower fast and then I'll help you," Ashley asked Amy as she opened the door.

Amy nodded, and turned back to Ricky as Ashley shut the door behind her.

Ricky opened his eyes a moment later, moving his hand up to Amy's left arm. Amy looked up at him, shaking her head. "This isn't your fault."

He looked up at her. "Your arm for my life, right?"

Amy nodded, but she knew that somehow he would still try to turn it around to make it his fault.

"See, that doesn't flow well with me. You shouldn't have been hurt at all. I'm supposed to keep you and John safe," Ricky insisted.

Amy shook her head. "Husbands do that. We're not married yet."

Ricky stared at her for a moment, considering what she said before the right side of his mouth curled up a bit into a smile. "Yet. Does that mean you're considering it?"

Amy blushed, feeling a smile pull her face up. A knot formed in her throat. She was afraid to answer his question. What if something went wrong in surgery? She gulped hard. "I-…I'm considering it," she suddenly found herself saying. She didn't know why she couldn't tell him yes, but the panic radiating through her was too much to give a definitive answer right now.

Ricky nodded, pulling her gently down against him again. Amy pulled her feet up onto the bed and rested her head against his shoulder, breathing in his scent. A part of her was still panicking that something might happen to him in surgery, but for now, he was here with her.

She found her self being shaken awake again, maybe ten minutes later, and looked around the room with bleary eyes to see that her mom was back. She rubbed the sleep from them as Ashley helped her off the bed and led her into the bathroom, helping her to disrobe. Anne walked in a moment later and wrapped her arm quickly up with plastic wrap. She made sure it was secure before Ashley helped Amy into the shower. Amy quickly washed up and then stepped out of the shower and slipped her robe on, while she moved over the sink so Ashley could quickly wash her hair, while the entire time they were careful to not get her IV or cast wet.

Once she was finished, Ashley wrapped Amy's hair up into a bun and helped her out of her robe, into a pair of sweat pants and a light t-shirt. By then, Amy was completely exhausted, and found herself sitting down on the floor to regain some of her energy.

Ashley sat down next to her. "So did you tell Ricky yes?"

Amy looked up at her confused. "About what?"

Ashley's face dropped. "He proposed?"

Amy sighed heavily as she remembered what her sister was talking about. "Oh. That. I told him…that I was considering it."

Ashley's brow furrowed, suddenly confused. "Yesterday you were terrified that you wouldn't be able to tell him that you did want to be with him, and today you told him you were just considering it?"

Amy rested her head against her good hand, resting her elbow against her knee. "I panicked. He still has to have surgery today. All they did yesterday was treat his wounds and bring his blood volume back up. They said if they'd done surgery, he could have died."

Ashey nodded. "I know. Mom and dad told me. Still begs the question, why not say yes?"

Amy shrugged, looking at her sister. "I honestly don't know. I…If he dies today, instead of yesterday," she gulped, feeling the knot rise in her throat again. "If he dies today…at least I'll know. If I say yes, it means I'm waiting on something. I can't put myself through that."

Ashley turned more to face Amy. "The way I see, that reason alone should be enough for you to tell him yes. Because if something **did** happen today, he'd go into it knowing that you wanted to be with him for the rest of your life. For the rest of his life."

Amy shook her head, feeling the tears that had been threatening to fall, now spilling over. She covered her face with her hand as a sob escaped her. "I feel like such a basket case."

Ashley sighed and wrapped her arms around Amy, hugging her gently. Amy wrapped her arm around Ashley, hugging her bag.

"It's okay to feel like a basket case. You've both been through a lot in the last 24 hours," Ashley soothed.

Amy shed one more tear before she forced herself to recompose, and pulled herself to her feet with the help of the sink. Ashley followed her in suit, moving away from the door and then standing up. She opened the door for Amy and followed her out of the room. Adrian and Grace had both arrived since they'd left gone into the bathroom and seemed to be full fledged into a conversation with Amy's parents and Ricky while everyone seemed to be picking at breakfast.

Amy sat down on Ricky's bed next to him as Anne stood, placing another plate of food on his tray. Assuming it was for her, Amy grabbed a piece of toast off of it and began to pick at it with her good hand, while she held as tightly as she could to it with her apparently broken arm. Considering what the doctor said had happened when the bullet hit her though, her grip was about as good as her son's.

The thought of him made her whip her head around in search of him. "Where's John? Why isn't he in here," she questioned quickly.

Anne looked up at her daughter. "John and Robbie are at home with your father. He's going to bring them up later after they've napped and had some lunch. Neither of them slept much last night."

Amy nodded after a moment, conceding that it was probably better for her son to be resting now. She continued to pick at her piece of toast while Adrian and Grace continued talking with Ashley.

Ricky rested his chin on Amy's shoulder, looking down at the piece of toast. "Gimmie a bite."

Amy turned her head slightly, looking at him. She smirked. "Are you allowed?"

Ricky brushed his left shoulder, giving her the smile he knew well enough to work. "Maybe. Just one bite."

Amy giggled softly and shook her head. "After surgery. I'll save you a piece."

He pouted, but then nodded, knowing it was better to wait. He then looked up at Grace and Adrian. "I'm a little lost on what happened yesterday still. Are you two okay?"

Adrian and Grace looked up simultaneously.

"We're fine. Just bumps and bruises for me," Adrian answered.

Grace shrugged. "I got cut up by some glass, but nothing too bad. We don't really know about anyone else."

A knock came at the door as soon as Grace finished her sentence, and everyone looked up to see Jack and Ben standing there. Amy and Grace both raised their eyebrows, confused at the two showing up together.

"We didn't come together," Jack quickly dismissed. "We met up in the elevator," he explained as he settled two trays of coffee on the table. "I brought one for everyone, incase anyone wanted one," he added.

Amy quickly stood and snatched up a coffee for herself, before settling back on the bed next to Ricky. He smiled and leaned his head towards the cup, but she pulled it back so he couldn't get a drink. "I promise. I'll have someone get you breakfast for dinner and a coffee as soon as you're awake and out of surgery," she spoke softly.

Ricky huffed, pouting at her dismissal at his chance at coffee, but nodded once again and laid his head back against the pillow.

"So, how are you guys," Jack asked quickly. Grace and Adrian both stated that they were okay before they all turned to Amy. She momentarily looked over at Ricky and then realized he'd passed out again and rolled her eyes, sipping her coffee. "We're okay, I guess. He has to have surgery today."

"I thought he had surgery yesterday," both Jack and Adrian spoke at the same time.

Amy shook her head. "They couldn't without bringing his blood volume back up. They did their best to bandage things up and put in temporary solutions, but he **has** to have surgery today."

Everyone nodded silently while sipping their coffees as if it could give a reason for the tense silence that was falling over the room. They all worried for the same reasons, and no one knew what to do about it.

Amy finally set her coffee down when she'd chugged half of it while trying not to say anything, and began picking at her breakfast again. She looked up at the four people standing in front of her, whom she claimed as her friends, and wondered what they knew that she didn't. They'd gotten out of school before her and Ricky, and they'd also been wide awake and at home in front of the news last night. They **had **to know something that she didn't. They just **had **to.

"So was anyone else hurt," she finally said, breaking the tense silence.

Ben, Adrian, Jack, and Grace all exchanged glances before looking over at Anne and Ashley, and then back at each other again. Ben finally spoke.

"A lot of people were hurt. Mostly minor bumps, bruises, and cuts. I think they said two or three dozen people had to have stitches because they all slipped on that water in the hallway," Ben nudged Jack as he finished his sentence. Jack simply rolled his eyes.

"Well you're all here, so I know none of you are dead. Did anyone get killed?"

Everyone fell silent again, and Amy grew frustrated. "Tell me. Who's hurt? Who got killed?"

Anne stood and walked over to the bed. "A lot of people were in and out of the school yesterday, Amy. A lot of people were hurt."

Amy looked up at her mother, not buying her answer. "You know something and you're not telling me. I might have gotten hurt but, I deserve to know just as much as anyone else. So tell me, or I'll find someone with a newspaper."

Anne sighed heavily and nodded at the kids before she exited the room. Amy turned her focus back to Grace, Ben, Jack, and Adrian. They all looked at each other again, as if they could make each other talk.

Once again it was Ben who finally broke the silence. "Most of the students who had guns, I think the news said there were four or five…commit suicide after they saw you guys coming out of school. That's what we were told."

"My dad said they had to shoot Joe because he's the one who shot at you and Ricky. He's in the ICU too," Adrian added.

Amy huffed, shifting on the bed so that she was holding her injured arm gingerly. "I don't care about them. I care about other students. Did anyone we know get hurt?"

"There's no easy way to talk about it," Grace conceded. "Two senior girls were killed. I think the news also said one senior and three junior boys were killed. They haven't released anything about other kids who were shot, yet."

Amy nodded, but she still felt like there was something they weren't tell her. "Anything else? What about Madison and Lauren?"

"We don't…know," Ben dragged out. "We didn't see either of them here yesterday, but their parents might have taken them home."

Amy sighed heavily. She wanted to know about her other two friends, but she had given in to the fact that being in this situation was a process, and they would have to wait.

A knock came at the door, and everyone looked up in time to see it opening. Anne entered the room, followed by a different nurse than the one who had treated them the night before.

"Where's Billie," Amy asked.

"Billie's shift ended around midnight," the nurse replied. "I'm Paige, and I'll be treating you while you're in the ICU," she spoke softly.

Amy shook her head. "I'm not. I just refused to stay away from him. He's the one who's in need of the intensive care."

Paige nodded. "Well you're due for another dose of pain medication, and Dr. Bailey would like Mr. Underwood to be prepped for surgery. The attending on call today, Dr. Kosh also requested that you get some rest before he comes into examine your arm later today."

Amy yawned, but nodded anyway. She'd been exhausted from the minute she'd stepped out of the shower. She stood from the bed and removed her hand from under her elbow so that she could drag her IV pole behind her. The other kids moved aside, and then sat down at the table by the door.

Amy settled into her bed while the nurse found her open IV port, and injected the pain reliever into it.

"Should we leave," Grace chimed in.

"You can sit and talk with Ashley-" Anne started, before the nurse followed.

"We're going to need you to stay out of the way though. If you can stay generally with in one place, because we're going to moving in and out of here a lot throughout the day."

The kids all nodded, agreeing to what Paige was saying before they all sat down at the table. Ashley followed in suit, bringing her coffee and breakfast over with her, while Anne sat with Amy, trying to keep her comfortable. With each passing minute however, Amy was growing more exhausted.

"He wants breakfast, mom. I promised him toast and coffee," Amy yawned.

Anne nodded, rubbing Amy's hand between her both of her own. "Just get some rest sweetie. We'll take care of it."

Amy nodded wearily, pulling her arm away and rolling onto her side. She pulled the blankets tighter around her, dozing off to sleep as she did.

Anne stood and walked over to the overbed table that was still next to Ricky's bed, and pulled it aside. She grabbed Amy's half-eaten breakfast plate, and set it on the table the kids were sitting at. "You'll all be good while I call home," she asked quickly. They all nodded at her.

Anne moved towards the door as three nurses - two female, and one male, (including Paige) entered the room and walked over to Ricky's bed. She shook him lightly awake. He groaned and did his best to stretch, waking himself up. "Hmm?"

"We'll be taking you down to surgery now." Paige turned to Anne. "I'm assuming you're the adult in charge at the moment?"

Anne nodded. "His parents should be back within the hour."

The male nurse, who introduced himself as Jake, explained. "Until they return, we'll have him in surgical prep. Once they arrive they'll need to come sign some papers, and then we'll start surgery."

Anne nodded again. "Okay. I'll give them a call."

She turned and walked out of the room finally, while the three nurses wheeled Ricky out of the room, and down towards the surgical wing…

Remember :P REVIEW!


	5. Ignorance Is Your New Best Friend

**A/N: **_I know this chapter is shorter than most of the ones I've written lately, but I'm proud of the way it worked out. I really hope you enjoy it, because as trying as it was for the muses to work with me on this one, I love how it worked out. Most of all, I think you'll love the way it turns out. Would I ever fail you guys? :P_

_Chapter 5_

_Ignorance Is Your New Best Friend_

Beeping was a sound she was quickly growing annoyed with, and she'd been here for only 24 hours. Ashley Juergens kicked one foot against the other as she watched her sister sleep. The other four kids had left to get lunch, and she'd decided to stay and wait until Amy woke up.

Ricky had been in surgery for just over and hour, but his parents were being very mum about anything that was going on. She sighed heavily and stood, scribbling a quick note out onto a piece of table and then then walked over to Amy's IV pole and poked a hole in the top of the paper as she pushed it down onto one of the rungs and then walked to the door and exited the room. She made her way to the elevators, which were not surprisingly surrounded by dozens of students again. Some were crying, some were talking, and some were just standing there, as if the comfort of being around the others was all that they needed. They all looked at her, as if they knew who she was without her even saying anything. Hell, they probably did know who she was. All the news stations had been relentless yesterday about who was related to Richard Underwood and Amy Juergens.

She made no effort to talk to anyone as one of the elevator doors opened and she stepped inside. She pushed the first floor button and leaned back against the wall as she waited. The day was going by much slower than yesterday had. It seemed like every minute all on its own, was like its own hour.

Ashley kicked off the wall and tapped her foot against the floor impatiently, groaning heavily when the doors finally slid open. Just like the fifth floor, the main floor was littered with people near the elevators. They all looked at her and watched her as she walked past them, down to the cafeteria. She wasn't necessarily hungry, as much as she just wanted to be outside of a hospital room. The panic within that room was almost malleable with how thick it was. Everyone worried about or for something. She understood that, but it wasn't a healthy place to spend too much time, and everyone else had had their chance to get out of the room. She was taking her turn now.

She walked up to the counter and grabbed a cup off juice off of it and then walked over to a table and sat down. Most of them were littered with people or garbage, so she considered herself fortunate to find one that was clean **and **empty. She sat down in a chair and set her juice down, looking around the room. Yesterday there had been so some sense of ability to tell who was there for a sick family member, and who was there because of a shooting victim, but today there was no telling. Everyone knew now, and everyone was talking about it. It was making her crazy.

She sipped at her juice, drumming her fingers against the table. Griffin had called her after everyone had left to get lunch and offered to come and keep her company, but he still had yet to show up. She was quickly growing annoyed at all the people looking at her; all the whispers about her family.

Across the room, Griffin appeared at the door and searched among the sea of people before he spotted Ashley. He brushed past the multitude of people before he made it over to the table she was sitting at and set the bag of food down in front of her, as well as the carton that held their drinks.

Ashley smiled up at him and reached into the bag, grabbing the food that was inside. She took one of the cartons of fries and grabbed a few, chewing on them. Griffin continued to empty the bag while she did, placing a wrapped burger in front of her, and on of the cups in the carton before he grabbed his own food and unwrapped it. He dumped the carton of fries onto the wrapper of his sandwich and then began to eat his own food. After a few bites, he finally spoke.

"So, have you talked to Grant at all today," he asked.

Ashley only shrugged, picking at her food. "Not yet. I was watching Amy before because everyone left, but she's still sleeping, so I figured I'd come down here. Its depressing up there."

Griffin nodded, chewing a bite of his sandwich. "We can talk, you know. You don't have to feel like the only people to talk to are your family. I was there too."

Ashley shrugged again. "I don't really want to. Just the thought of talking about it makes me sick to my stomach," she explained.

"Okay," Griffin conceded. "But I'm here for you if you need me. Know that, okay?"

Ashley nodded. "I do know that. And it means a lot, but right now I just… I need to be there for my family. My parents are terrified that they're going to lose Amy, Amy's beyond terrified that she's going to lose Ricky, and…." Ashley shook her head. It was all just one big whirlwind and she didn't know how to cope with it all. Why had those kids and Bob felt the need to bring guns to school yesterday?

She rested her head against the front of her palm, dropping the fries in her hand. "This is all just too much for us to handle. I don't know what to do," she admitted.

Griffin reached across the table and squeezed her hand, holding it tightly. "It'll be okay. You'll all get through it."

Ashley bit the inside of her cheek, mulling over what he said to her. "I want to believe that, but I'm not sure I do."

_------  
Can you catch me  
__If I let go  
-----_

Amy yawned, stretching as best she could in her hospital bed. She winced at the pulling on her IV and dropped her arm back against the bed. The sun was still glaring through the window, and she could smell food - specifically french fries, her favourite food.

She sat up slowly, looking around. She was actually surprised to see that the room was empty. She moved off the bed, smiling as she crossed the room and grabbed a French fry off the table. An annoying flapping made her look up however, and she reached up, grabbing the paper hanging from her IV pole.

_Amy, _

_Was in the food court, Griffin brought you some lunch._

The handwriting suddenly changed, from Ashley's, to who she assumed was her mothers.

_Took Ashley home to change and pick up the boys. We'll be back around 3. Eat lunch and sit tight. If the doctor comes before we get back, __**do as he says**__. _

_Love you,  
Mom_

Amy smirked, sitting down at the table, She shifted a few times in discomfort before she finally settled on the edge of the seat and started picking at her food. Truth was, she wasn't all that hungry, but she hadn't eaten anything in almost two days and knew she had to eat something.

After a few fries, she pieced apart her sandwich, picking pieces of it off the largest part. She only ate a few bites of it before rolling it up and tossing it back in the bag, along with most of the fries. Amy stood and carried the bag with her over to the trash, tossing it out. She then walked back over to the table and grabbed the carton that the fries were in and picked at them. She sighed heavily and tossed them onto the overbed table and shook her head, leaning back against the pillow. All the stress of thinking about what Ricky was going through wasn't helping her to fight her own urges.

The door opened and she looked up, seeing Margaret and Shakur walk in. They both smiled at her as they settled their things and sat down at the table. "Ricky is in recovery right now. He'll be in soon," Margaret spoke softly.

Amy nodded, shifting in her bed. She just wanted to leave.

The door opened again and a doctor entered, smiling at Margaret and Shakur before he walked over to Amy. "Amy Juergens?"

Amy nodded, sitting up. "Yeah."

"I'm Dr. Kosh. I'll be checking your wound and stitches and then we'll talk for a bit, if that's okay?"

Amy nodded.

"Are your parents here," he asked.

Amy shook her head. "They're at home. They're coming back."

Dr. Kosh nodded. "Alright. I'll print up some paperwork on what I'm going to tell you, and then brief your parents later. I'm going to get what I need, and then we'll get started."

"Okay," Amy answered softly. She rested her head back against the bed, closing her eyes. She only opened them again Dr. Kosh reentered the room. She shifted on the bed so that she was sitting on the side of it. Dr. Kosh pulled the Velcro on the sling on her arm and unwrapped it from around her before he pulled it off her arm and tossed it on the side of the bed. He then began to undo the Velcro from the elbow splint on her arm. He gently slipped it off of Amy's arm, bending her arm only about five degrees so that he could remove and reapply gauze.

After tossing the brace down, he removed the tabs holding the gauze together, off of it and then gently began to unwrap Amy's arm. As he did, she and Ricky's parents saw the full bruising of her arm come to view.

"Why is my arm so bruised," she questioned. She was sure the question had been asked earlier, but she couldn't remember.

"The way the bullet pierced your arm made all of the bones in your arm shift and most of it shatter. We **had **to surgically repair most of it." He explained. "Because everything shifted, there was a lot of bleeding outside of the bone."

Amy sighed, taking in what he was saying. Still, something in her head repeated the thought over and over again that if she hadn't thrown her arm where she did, Ricky would be dead.

When Dr. Kosh finally finished unwrapping the gauze, he checked the stitches on Amy's arm, and lifted it gently to check the bruising. Once he was done, he put Amy's arm back down and grabbed a fresh role of gauze off of his sterile field and opened the package. He then applied some triple antibiotic ointment on the wound, and then covered it with gauze. "Hold this please?"

Amy held the gauze lightly, wincing at the tenderness of her arm. "Can I get more pain medication?"

Dr. Kosh nodded. "Once we're done, I'll send Paige in to give you another dose." He spoke as he began wrapping her arm again, moving Amy's hand once he reached her elbow. When he was finally finished, he reached up onto the table and grabbed a different brace off the sterile field. "This brace has more padding on it and there's a strap that extends from the back of the elbow, to the front of the brace, so you won't have to wear a sling. The bar under it is so that your elbow doesn't turn."

"Okay," Amy spoke softly.

Dr. Kosh slipped the brace onto her arm and made sure it was tight enough, but gentle enough that it wouldn't squeeze the bruises on her arm, before he slipped the strap around her and then brought it down on the Velcro. He gently pressed it down and then checked the cut under her lip. "This looks to be healing nicely," he noted. He picked up her chart and looked it over. " You have cut running from your breast to your shoulder?"

Amy nodded. "Not deep. A piece of glass caught me," She spoke softly. She pulled her shirt over so that he could see the cut. It extended from her collarbone to just above her right breast. It looked more like a cut from a seatbelt than something from glass.

"Looks to be healing well. Did you have any stitches placed," he asked.

Amy shrugged. "I think on my leg, but that's it."

Dr. Kosh nodded. "I'll check that later and then with any luck, you can go home in a few days. Its only your arm I'm worried about at this point. Alright?"

Amy nodded, shifting back into the bed so that she was laying down. As she did, the door opened and Anne walked in with John in her arms, followed by Ashley, and then George, who was carrying Robbie. Amy extended her one arm John, who reached for her as well. Anne set him gently on the bed and extended her hand to Dr. Kosh, who was removing his gloves.

"I'm Anne Juergens, Amy's mom. This is my-…my…"

"I'm Amy's father," George finished for her. Dr. Kosh shook Anne's hand and then George's smiling.

"I'm Adam Kosh. I was just explaining to Amy that this brace is better suited for her. It will keep her elbow from moving while it heals with the bar under it, and keep it stabilized. 'This should also help minimize the pain as well. Now, I want to keep her for a few more days because even though it's a rare chance, I'm worried about infection. Almost two dozen people were hurt in this shooting, and I'm keeping them all here until I can be sure they're all going to heal safely. I'll make sure Paige keeps an eye on her cuts and the bruising on her arm might take a week or so to go down. The breaks in her arm were pretty bad." He explained.

Anne and George both nodded, listening to him as if his words were something out of the bible.

"Now, I'm going to send Paige in with some pain medication, and then I'll be back tonight to check in before I head out of the night." Both Anne and George thanked him once more before he walked out of the room.

John snuggled into Amy's arms, gabbing at her in baby language about his day, and she simply listened silently, smiling and nodding when she felt it deemed necessary. When John grew bored of talking, he simply snuggled against her. Amy agreed with him silently. It **had** been too long since she or Ricky had seen him.

The room grew relatively silent as Amy rested with her son. Somewhere in between all his story telling and then their resting together, Paige must have come in and given her more pain medication, because she felt like her body was going numb, and grew wearier by the minute. John was fast asleep next to her only minutes later.

She jumped awake however, when the air pumping in and out of a machine grew louder. She sat up slowly and yawned, gently slipping her blanket around John as she sat up. Moving wasn't quite as easy with one arm completely immobilized, but she managed.

She gulped at the sight before her as she sat up fully. Her mother was quick to stand and move to her side, trying to keep her calm before she started freaking out. "Breathe. This was a possibility that we knew about before he went into surgery."

"I didn't!" Amy shrieked. She couldn't even stop the tears flooding her eyes as she stared at the love of her life laying in front of her with tube running into his mouth.

"**Amy.**" George spoke sternly, trying to help to calm his eldest daughter. "Let your mother finish."

Anne thanked him softly, turning back to Amy. "Ricky's body has been through hell in the last 36 hours. Respiratory failure was a risk, and we knew this. For now, the tube his helping him to breathe because his body is too weak to do some of the things it needs to do on its own."

"Dr. Benton, the ER surgeon, said that in a few days he should be okay. Right now we're all just worried about him getting through this," Margaret finished. She walked over to Amy, patting her hand lightly. "Shakur and I both understand what you're feeling. Its going to be okay."

Amy gulped, wiping the tears from her face. They still fell, but not as desperately. She stood slowly and dragged the IV pole with her over to Ricky's bed, unable to stop the whimper that escaped her throat as she ran her fingers across his bruised check. Hell, every part of him was bruised. There probably wasn't a single surface of his skin that she wouldn't find a bruise on.

She sat down on the bed next to him, nuzzling her head into his shoulder. Ricky's head turned only slightly, but his hand wrapped gently around her side. His breaths were shallow against the machine, but if that's what it took, fine. She would wait.

"_Yes,"_ she whispered up at him. _"Yes."_


	6. If God's The Game You're Playing

_Chapter 6_

_If God's The Game You're Playing_

The following two days were uneventful. The news played the same information over and over. More people turned up in the school, both dead and alive. People still didn't tell Amy much about what was going on. At least two dozen funerals were being arranged, but she wasn't sure that they all had to do with the school shooting. Teachers and more friends had stopped by, and the elevators were still crowded with people, but she wasn't sure that they were there because of the shooting, or for their own family reasons, either.

Watching Ricky slowly progress was agonizing to her. He still had a tube in his throat, though his lungs had grown stronger, and he was starting to gain more control of his movements and surface from unconsciousness, everyone still saw that it was a struggle for him to do anything besides breathe.

The doctors drummed it simply up to the fact that his injuries were too severe; that he still was at risk of multi-system failure. Everyone one of them said his chances were too low, but that only reminded Amy of the time he'd told her about when he was born.

"_You were premature," she asked curiously. Her son was kicking ferociously inside of her, and these last few weeks had been incredibly uncomfortable. She was so ready for her son to be out of her by now. _

_Ricky nodded, shifting off his knees and onto the floor as he moved his hands on her stomach. Their budding friendship was growing gradually, but Amy insisted she wouldn't deny him contact with his son. Sure, a part of her still hated him for putting her in this position, but she'd made her choice, and she was going to have to stick with him now, for the rest of her life. _

"_Every doctor said I had no chance," he began, rubbing the side of her stomach gently as his son kicked Amy hard. "I was born at 11 weeks early, and every doctor said even if I survived the first few days, or even the first few weeks, I still might die. They said I was too sick. Plus I'd been exposed to drugs while my biological mother was pregnant with me, so they worried that might hinder my health. And since I was born early, I was highly susceptible to an immune deficiency disorder. That's why my lungs are so bad," he spoke softly, looking up at her briefly. _

She remembered shortly after John's birth, when he'd had the option to have a full lung transplant, but decided against it because he figured it would take too much recovery time. He'd even told her he was terrified that he gave the deficiency disorder to John the first time he got sick, though Dr. Hightower insisted after checking John over that he didn't.

"_I hate this," he huffed, kicking an empty box. _

_Amy shifted John from one shoulder to the other, trying to calm him. "It's just a cold. He'll be okay."_

"You don't get it," Ricky growled. "I told you before he was born. I have an immunodeficiency disorder. Every time he _**sneezes**__, I'm terrified I've passed it on to him."_

Amy raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

Ricky sighed heavily and plopped down into her rocking chair, rubbing his head, frustrated. "Its called Primary Immunodeficiency, and generally presents when a child is young, discovered by their inability to fight off sickness as normal as someone else might. I've learned to live with it, which is why I avoid getting sick, but he's just a baby, Amy…"

Amy gulped, only starting to realize the fullness of what he was telling her. "And you won't have this lung transplant why?" 

_Ricky rolled his eyes. "I told you why." _

Sometimes she wanted to kick him for how sarcastic he could be, just because he wanted to be a pain in her ass. He didn't want to have surgery because it would require him to wait on others. She almost wished now that they could still do the surgery; then he'd be healthier, and he'd already be recovering from other things, so it wouldn't matter.

The sad truth was, the last four days had been hell. She wanted to find a remote and rewind back to Friday morning, when it was 4 AM and he was still laying in her bed, telling her he had to leave before her parents woke up. She wanted to go back to sneaking around and being proud of the fact that even though they had a son together now, they could still be "bad" together. Sure, they were domesticated now for John, but they still had their fun and their quirks.

She wanted to rewind everything.

_Amy yawned wearily, stretching her arms out as far as she could. She quickly pulled them back however, when she heard an 'oomph' following the meeting of her fist into someone else's arm. She opened her eyes wide, expecting to see Ashley laying next to her, but it wasn't. Wasn't Ashley in here the night before? Didn't she fall asleep next to Amy?  
_

"_Thanks. I'll be sure to come up with some stupid reason for this on my arm later," Ricky teased softly. He was moving off the bed, yanking his jeans on ferociously. _

_Amy yawned again, looking at him through bleary eyes. "Wasn't Ashley in here when I fell asleep?"_

Ricky shrugged. "Probably. She left when I got here around 11. I gotta go before your parents wake up though. We don't want a repeat of last week," he trailed off. He moved towards the window, opening it slowly. If he moved it just right, it wouldn't- _**ahah!**__ No squeaks. _

"_Wait," Amy suddenly shot up in her bed, reaching over to grab the tail of his jacket. _

_Ricky looked back at her, confused. "What, babe? I wanna get home and get a few more hours of sleep." _

"_Pick us up later? Please? We haven't been able to do that in days, and I miss it," she pouted. _

_Ricky couldn't help but smirk. "I'll try." He stepped back from the window and pushed her back down on the bed, kissing her lips softly. "Get some more sleep. John should be out at least until 7 now. I love you."  
_

_Amy blushed. "I love you too."_

As soon as he turned back to the window, she rolled over in her covers, snuggling into his scent on her pillow and closed her eyes, letting sleep overcome her again as she blocked out the sounds of the window closing, and the _**obvious**__ sound of someone shimmying down the side of the house._

"Why did I ask you to come that morning," she asked herself softly, though no one really heard her. He was still to out of it and everyone else was off getting dinner. She still wouldn't barely eat a thing. She needed to know he was okay first.

The clock chimed above Ricky's bed and she looked up, seeing that it was now 7 PM. George had insisted they'd all be back at 6:30, but there had been a major pileup on the highway, so Amy wasn't expecting any miracles. Paige had told her that the news was estimating at least an hour of backed up traffic because of cleanup and investigation, not to mention rerouting traffic.

She jumped, her focus suddenly changing when she heard a sound like choking; Ricky moved only slightly, but enough to catch her attention. She jumped up, hitting the call button immediately. His eyes fluttered only slightly, before it happened again.

Dr. Nosh walked in the room, smiling lightly at Amy. "What's seems to be the problem?"

"H-he sounds like he's choking," Amy spat out quickly. The sound terrified her more than anything. What if he couldn't breathe? 

Dr. Nosh moved the hospital gown down on Ricky's chest and listened to his breaths. After a few minutes, he nodded and removed his stethoscope from his ears, wrapping it around his neck again. "The news appears to be good. He's starting to breathe more on his own. If things continue to progress this way, then tomorrow or Thursday, we should be to pull the tube out. Right now we're most worried that he be able to breathe and that he's taking in an adequate air supply. Without the tube, he'd likely go into multi-system failure."

Amy nodded. "I know. You guys have been telling us this for the last three days. Honestly, I'm sick of hearing it."

Ricky's eyes fluttered again, only a little more this time, though they still didn't open. Dr. Noth took notice to this and pulled a light from his pocket. He turned the light on and lifted Ricky's left eyelid, flashing the light past his pupil several times. He repeated the same movement with his right eye.

"There's some reaction. He may be starting to react more to surroundings. Page me if he wakes up," Dr. Noth spoke softly, putting his light back into his pocket. He checked the IV bag and then turned away, walking out of the room.

Amy exhaled, though there was a sense of melancholy in it. "What are we becoming, Ricky?" She only spoke it loud enough for herself to hear it, but it seemed as if he heard her anyway. The sound he emitted was soft, almost strangled, but she heard it anyway. Tears burned her eyes and she stood, pushing her wheelchair back so she didn't trip on it. She was grateful to not be on restriction to her room now, because she needed to get out of this room.

As she stood there, she thought about leaning down and kissing him, but it just seemed worthless. It wasn't like he could kiss her back. She moved around the bed and walked over to the door, opening it. As she stared back at him, she had to fight the urge just to convince herself to do this. They couldn't become codependent. She needed to have her own life.

She walked out of the room and down the hall, and stared into the visiting room. It was empty, other than the furniture, some vending machines, and a computer. She had intended to go inside and sit down; take some time to rest without being with Ricky, but now all she could do was stand there. Every time she closed her eyes, she remembered more from what had happened. It felt like an unrelenting nightmare, repeating over and over in her brain, but more vivid than that. It was like all the sounds were heightened and burning in her brain. She wished it was just that; a nightmare. Unfortunately, she was living it.

She thought back to the last time she was standing in front of a room like this. John had just been born and some family from her dad's side had come from out of town to see the baby. Everything else had been happier then. She had been smiling. There had been only good to look forward to. Now it just felt like everything was crashing down like fine china, onto the floor and shattering.

She opened the door to the room and walked in, and stood there. She didn't dare sit down; sitting down meant she was comfortable being in there; being away from Ricky. She wasn't comfortable. She was losing her mind.

She walked over to the computer, done and tired of not knowing what other people knew outside of the building. Maybe if she read about what was going on in the world, she would feel a little better about her current situation.

Amy wasted no time getting onto the local new station's website. The page splashed up with updates and articles about the school shooting. She clicked one link and waited patiently as the headline loaded before she began to read.

**Three Dozen Dead; Still No News**

_Three dozen students and two teachers are known about at this moment to have been killed in the shooting that took place on Friday. Little information is being given on the condition of those survivors in the hospital._

_Most curiously, everyone is still searching for information on the two teenagers whose escape was caught on camera by multiple stations. At this time, their names still have not been released to the press, although sources close to friends of the students claim that they are alive. _

She quickly grew bored, rolling her eyes as she went back to the main page and scrolled through the list of names of the deceased. She knew several people; one senior, who had helped her a few times in band while she was pregnant. He'd been nice to her, but when she started crushing on him, he insisted all he wanted to be was friends. She hadn't talked to him much after that.

Most of the dead students were girls, and somehow that didn't surprise her. A few were cheerleaders, but some were girls in the band that she knew. One of the girls on the list, she'd even come to know personally. They'd hung out a few times while Amy was a freshman, but a lot more after John was born. It turned out that the girl's older sister had been a teen mother, so she was used to a scream baby at all hours of the night. She only prayed that that was the only funeral she'd be attending.

Amy scrolled down the page some more before she clicked on something titled "**In Development**_"._

_Though little is being said about the two unnamed students who exited Grant High School on Friday with Det. Ruben Enriquez, WXXI claims to have an exclusive interview coming later this week. _

She rolled her eyes again and clicked out of the browser, leaning back in the chair. Why the hell were people spreading these lies when she hadn't even heard the **mention** of having an interview with a TV station. Further more, why did people even care about what had happened to them? It's not like they were the first school shooting that had ever happened.

The door opened behind her and she sat up, turning around, only to see Ashley standing there, panting. "I ran up. Its pouring again outside and everyone's soaked."

Amy nodded, standing from the chair she was sitting in. "Did anyone get hurt," she asked quickly.

"No," Ashley raised an eyebrow at her. "Why would they be?"

Amy shrugged. "I dunno. Just making sure."

Ashley stepped around her and sat down at the computer. "I'm gonna check my email. The doctor said Ricky's coming around more."

Amy nodded. "I know. He was starting to try and open his eyes and trying to breathe on his own when I left the room," she spoke softly.

Ashley shrugged. "Oh. Well I think he meant that he's awake."

Amy's eyes went wide and she turned quickly, rushing out of the room without another word. She dashed down the hall, walking into the open room, only to be stopped by her mother and father blocking the doorway.

"You need to wait a few minutes," her mother spoke softly. "He's panicking. He doesn't understand why he there's a tube in his throat."

Amy's shoulders slumped and she sighed heavily, trying to see past her father. She could hear him trying to make noise, as well as his parents voices, trying to calm him. She pushed forcibly past her father, only to yelp as her IV line and caught on something, inevitably pulling it from the tape holding it down, out of her skin.

Dr. Noth looked up to see Amy holding her hand to her chest, wincing more at the pain of the IV being pulled out, than the blood seeping past her fingers. Her father stepped forward and pulled her hand back, placing a napkin over it. "I'll get a bandaid and a nurse to restart the IV. You sit tight."

Amy groaned, plopping down in a chair while her father held the napkin firmly against her hand. She wasn't bleeding too much, but the removal of the IV had hardly been professional, so it was better to be safe, rather than sorry.

"How did it pull out anyway," Amy grumbled as she finished pulling off the tape on her hand.

"I wasn't watching where I was walking and I accidentally stepped on it," Anne admitted as she shifted Robbie from one side to the other.

Amy thought to say something, but she couldn't really blame her mother. She'd done a lot of klutzy things with John after he was born. Hell, she **still **did a lot of klutzy things.

Dr. Noth returned a minute later with a nurse who began the preparations of a new IV line. Once she had it set up, she took Amy's other hand and administered a new IV before she attached the IV tubing to it and let the drip begin.

When it dawned on her that Ricky had seen this entire ordeal, guilt washed over Amy in waves. He'd already been freaking out, and now she was scaring the hell out of him because she couldn't watch where she was going? She mentally kicked herself, turing her attention to him.

"I've missed you," she muttered softly, moving the wheelchair closer to him. She took his hand in hers, though it required her to reach halfway across his body, she didn't care.

Ricky smiled, or at least he tried; between the ventilator tube going into his mouth and the tape holding it down, it wasn't an easy feat. He still wasn't sure he fully understood what was going on with his own body, but he'd been in this position before; one of the few times his father had found him in foster care before going to prison. He preferred to not think about that.

After a minute, Amy looked up at him again, this time reaching up to brush her fingers against his cheek. He rested his head wearily against her hand, clearly comforted by the feeling. "I said yes. I'll marry you."

Though the tape over his mouth kept Ricky from giving her a real smile, he didn't have to. The tears gleaming in his eyes were enough to tell her that he was just as happy as she was. She brushed one of them away and stood slightly, leaning over the bed to kiss the corner of his mouth before she settled back in her chair.

It would be another long couple of days, but she was pretty sure that after what they'd just survived, together she and Ricky could survive just about anything together.


	7. Just To Be Quiet

**A/N: **I realize this chapter has been long awaited, and I apologize. I didn't forget about you guys; my life got a little hectic this summer. I met someone who's made quite an impact on my life in the last three months, and have been contemplating moving from home to another family member's house. I also just spent the last 4 weeks at home, so I was unable to post the new chapter while I was there. Anyway, I come to you with a silver platter of 9 full pages of a new chapter :D. Enjoy.

**A/N #2:**So… looking back at the other chapters of this story… I realized I've been confusing my dear doctor's name and flip-flopping back and forth between Dr. Noth and Dr. Kosh. Originally they were supposed to be one person, however since I've made this beautiful mistake, they are now two different people. Sorry for any of the confusion. (And yes, as an author, I am ADMITTING that I make errors.)

_Chapter 7_

_Just To Be Quiet_

Amy awoke with a startle, rubbing her eyes wearily. The clock across the room read 2:32 AM, but the gagging coming from several feet next to her was enough to scare the hell out of her.

She jumped from her bed, pushing through the myriad of doctors to get to Ricky, taking his hand. She caught on to what a doctor was saying mid-sentence and cut in, leaning over so that Ricky was focused on her. "Calm down; you're okay. It means you can breathe on your own. Now try and be still so they can take the tube out."

Her voice was laced with sounds of sleepiness, but she stood firmly at his side as another doctor stepped in and unhooked the tubing and then slowly removed the tube from his throat. When it was finally out, he burst up in the bed, holding the bed sheet tightly in his fist as he coughed. A nurse placed a bucket in front of him and he clenched onto it as he coughed up phlegm in his throat. At the same time, Dr. Noth moved behind him and listened to Ricky's breaths as he gasped for air. A few seconds later, he hit Ricky's back as hard as he could and then stepped back as Ricky heaved into the bucket in front of him.

Ricky lifted his head slowly, taking several slow breaths before he sat up fully, handing the bucket off to a nurse.

"You can breathe," Dr. Noth questioned.

Ricky nodded, looking up at Amy after a minute. "Wh…" His voice faded. He supposed he wasn't surprised. He took several more breaths and then looked up at Amy again. "Where's John?"

Amy gulped the knot in her throat. She hadn't had a real conversation with him in nearly a week, and the first thing he was asking her as bout their son. In her heart, she knew he was right to ask, but it didn't mean she didn't feel like he'd kicked her just the smallest bit in the stomach. She walked across the room and leaned over, picking up her sleeping son out of the pack-and-play. She shifted him into her good shoulder and then walked back over to Ricky's bed, resting John in the nook of Ricky's broken leg. Ricky reached forward, running a hand through his son's hair, and then grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly.

"I almost died," Ricky spoke softly. "I almost died, and his last visual of me would've been me bleeding on the floor, seconds close to dead."

Amy chewed lightly on her bottom lip so she didn't tear scab open, but she didn't really know what to say to him. On one hand, she could tell him that John is young; that in a few weeks, the memory would be almost nonexistent, but Ricky would take that as almost dying and his son not remembering him. On the other hand, she couldn't really blame him for what he was feeling. She too had questioned whether they'd actually survive and make it out that school. He almost didn't.

She sat down on the edge of the bed next to his good leg, looking down at her son. "The point is that you did, and we're both still here," she whispered. Her eyes drifted. To the floor, and then to her own bed, before they finally met his. Those hazel brown eyes that she hadn't seen in days.

Dr. Noth finally exited the room, and Ricky looked up at Amy, finally looking at her clearly.

"I'm sorry." He cleared his throat, scratching it with his good hand, as if he could make the scratchiness go away. "I left you hanging out on a limb. I asked you to marry me, and then I just…I left you hanging."

Amy nodded slowly, swallowing back the knot in her throat. "It's okay," she mumbled. She didn't really want to discuss this.

Ricky took the hint by the look on her face and shifted on the bed, laying back some. "So does anyone know when school is starting up again," he asked.

Amy stared down at her son, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "I don't know. All I keep hearing about is how the investigation is going and that the west wing of the school might be rebuilt. I know for the rest of the year they're talking about moving us to Van Nuys High School." 

"Taking a page out of the Columbine book," Ricky surmised as he ran a hand through his hair. "They transferred their students to another high school for the remainder of the school year in 1999." 

"Where do you store this information," Amy asked, baffled. It amazed her sometimes, the amount of information he knew. She knew that it was because reading and the news were the only source of escaping the hell he'd lived in when he was still with his parents, but it didn't stop her from being absolutely floored.

Ricky shrugged. "Knowledge is power." He looked up at the IV drip, scratching his neck. "I hate to do this now, but I-"

"Need sleep," Amy finished wearily for him. She nodded and lifted John off the bed, moving him back into the pack and play before she crawled back into her own bed. Pulling the blankets tightly around her, she rested her head back against the pillow. A lone tear fell down her cheek before she drifted off to sleep.

_Two can keep a secret_

_If one of them is dead_

Amy pulled the covers tight over her head at the sound of chatter in the room. Though try as she might, she couldn't seem to block out the excited squealing of her one year old son. A moment later, a light tug came on her blanket and she pulled back, refusing to give in. The tug came again, once, then twice, and she still held her ground. Finally a toddler's laugh broke through her exterior, and she couldn't help but smile. She pushed the covers back and sat up, running her good hand through her hair.

In front of her stood a 5'4'' blond with wavy hair, dressed in a striped tank top and jean shorts. She was Neveah's mom-one of the kids she helped to care for at the church day care, but Amy knew her better as Spencer. She was only 19, and the only teen mom Amy knew. She supposed if she had switched schools and gone to 'slut school' that she'd probably know more people in her current situation, but she had never wanted to go to that school to begin with.

"The doctors said today was the first day you were allowed visitors from outside the school," she explained softly.

Amy nodded, running fingers through her hair again. "Yeah. Since we're sharing a room, we didn't really have anyone coming to visit." She looked up at Ricky, smiling at the fact that he was still asleep. The way he slept like a log sometimes made her laugh.

"Your mom said you were getting released today. I thought maybe we could grab breakfast and then take the kids to the park," Spencer suggested.

Amy gulped, chewing her bottom lip. "Um, I-I thought I would-"

"I think it'd be good for you to get out of here, Amy. You've been holed up here for a week." Anne's voice was loud, but gentle enough that it was clear to Amy that her mother wanted her to get out of the hospital.

She breathed a slightly annoyed sigh and then pushed herself off the bed. It was as she was doing that that she realized that she no longer felt the pull of an IV; only the slight stickiness of a small bandage covering the spot where the needle had been placed.

"Dr. Noth gave you an injection of pain meds before he removed the IV, so you should be set for a few hours. He also wrote a script for pain, which I took down to the pharmacy earlier. It should be filled by the time you get back," Anne finished as she handed Amy a pair of clothes. Amy walked into the bathroom, Ashley following in behind her.

A few minutes later, they stepped back out; Amy holding her sling in her good hand. Her father helped her to put it back on correctly while people shuffled in and out of the room. Ricky was only starting to wake up again, and Amy could tell that he was at least a week away from being able to go home.

She walked over to him once her father was done adjusting the strap of the sling on her shoulder, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. Ricky turned his head slowly, brushing his lips against hers wearily. Taking the invitation, Amy attempted to kiss him for real, but it was short lived, as Ricky began to breathe harder. He gently pushed her back, shaking his head.

"Can't…breathe well enough," he stammered.

Amy chewed lightly on her bottom lip and stepped back. Ricky grabbed her hand, squeezing it lightly in attempt to tell her that he still cared. He was sure she felt like the weight of the world was on her shoulders.

Still, Amy pulled her hand away and walked away, exiting the room with Spencer, Neveah, and John…

_I love you more than I did before_

_And if today I don't see your face_

_Nothing's changed, No one can take your place_

_It gets harder every day_

The room blurred around Ricky as he focused on the TV. The whole morning, people had been running in and out, and he'd barely gotten enough sleep the night before to begin with. He looked slowly around, struggling to keep his eyes open until he finally settled on the person in front of him.

"What're you doing here," he whispered gruffly.

Nora Underwood stood before him clinging tightly to the purse she held in her hands. "I-I saw the news. I wanted to come the first day, but I wasn't sure how your par- how your guardians would feel."

Ricky sat up, shifting in his bed. "Oh." He tried to think of something better to say, but the fog in his brain was still so thick that he didn't really know what to say.

"How're you feeling," she asked softly.

Ricky shrugged, leaning back as the bed rose into a seated position. "Tired. Sore." He closed his eyes for a moment, wishing the sheer exhaustion he felt would just go away, but it was futile. He looked up at her again a moment later. Clearly she wanted more than what he was saying.

"I keep having this nightmare." He whispered. He rolled his head to face her, looking down at the floor. "I keep having this nightmare, b-but it's not a nightmare." He looked up at her, trying to swallow the knot in his throat. "I keep dreaming about trying to crawl down a hall with only one good arm and leg, while there's a bullet stuck in my neck. I keep thinking that if I wake up, it'll end, but it doesn't. I wake up a-and I realize that it's real, and then doctors are telling me I died. That I died in the ambulance, and that I'm all over the newspapers and magazines and TV and the hospital won't let us watch because our parents don't want us to know, and Amy's got friends who are dead and, and I ramble when I'm scared, and I'm terrified because I almost died and Bob almost killed me, and he's still out there somewhere, and, and I can't, I…" His voice trailed off. Somewhere inside of him, something snapped because tears spilled over for the first time.

Norah didn't move. She stood in front of him with her hands shaking. "I…"

"I learned," Ricky continued. "I, I learned how to live without parents. How to survive without having someone there to solve all my problems. I raised myself, and I got old enough to **be** on my own, and I thought it'd be okay, but he comes back into my life. Bob, he comes back into my life, and he shoots me and tells me he wants me dead, and two years ago, that would've been fine, but now, **now** I have a son, and he's learning how to speak, and he's saying things like 'mama' and 'daddy', and he's crawling, and he's trying to walk and…and I could've missed out on everything."

Norah still stood there, frozen in fear.

Margaret had stood in the doorway, watching the two of them talk. She's agreed to let Norah see Ricky, only because if she were on the other end of all of this, she'd have wanted the same courtesy. However, watching this was something that was beyond her grasp. This boy she'd raised over the last five years truly had become her son. Month after month and year after year, dozens of children came in and out of her home. Some were adopted by other families; others were sent to other foster homes. But when it came down to it, Ricky had never left. He'd stayed, and they made it work. Somewhere in the middle of it all, he stopped being her foster son, and just became her son. Sure, they never adopted him, but it had nothing to do with how much she and Shakur cared about him. It had nothing to do with that. It was the fact that when it came down to it, she didn't need a piece of paper to tell her who her son was.

She stepped away from the doorway and walked into the room, pushing past Norah. She gripped her son's hand, shaking her head. "You're alive. And you're going to see your son through everything he ever wants to do in this life. He's going to be happy, and you're going to see him get everything you weren't afforded. And that will make you happy."

Ricky stared at her, as if he had to consider what she was saying, or actually form an excuse. He tried, however came out with nothing. "But…"

Margaret shook her head, wiping away the tears on his face. "You hide too much. He's never going to get near you again, but you've got to choose to live. Right here, and right now."

He stared at her clearly. She was right. He ran right into the option of giving up every time it came around, because somewhere deep inside, hidden under all the anger and hate and resentment that he held for so many people that failed him for 12 straight years, he was willing to give in; not because he didn't love his son. Not because he didn't love Amy. Because he was terrified that he would become his father, and hurt his son in the ways that his own father had hurt him. Or worse, that Bob would find a way to get John and hurt him the ways he had hurt Ricky. "Yeah…"

_I gave and gave the best of me_

_But couldn't give you what you need_

Amy swallowed hard, staring at the massive crowd in front of her. In her head, she was screaming to understand why all these kids weren't in school, even though she knew that it was because they had been students at her school too. She felt like she was on the outside looking in. People were dead. She had survived. Somehow, this all made sense, and yet didn't make any sense at all. There was such as sense of reverse psychology, she wasn't sure how to piece it all together.

Sierra had wanted to take a drive through the park; she'd had no idea that there were actually hundreds of students gathered there, talking. Trying to make sense of everything.

And yet, even though Amy had spent the last week in the hospital with Ricky, she felt like she belonged there. At least a dozen people had run up to her since she'd gotten there five minutes earlier, asking how Ricky was, or how her sister was doing. Everyone wanted to know what really happened in that band room. In her own way, she wondered what the rest of the school looked like. Four kids and Bob had banded together to take lives, and kids had died. Kids.

"AMY!" She jumped, probably for the fifth time. She turned around to find the screaming voice, only to be nearly ambushed. A flurry of scarlet hair flew past her face. She gulped, hugging the girl back. Madison.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed. It might've been seconds, or minutes, but when Madison finally let go, it still felt like not enough time had passed. For over a week, she'd been left wondering if her bubbly best friend was okay, or even still alive.

"Why didn't you come to he hospital," Amy cried.

"I wanted to," Madison explained. "My dad took me and my step mom out of town though. He said he didn't want us to be forced to deal with all the stuff on the news."

Even though Amy hadn't seen the news either in the last week, she understood what Madison meant. Everyone she'd talked to in the last week had told her that she and Ricky were all over the news.

"Then we got back, and your parents said that visiting was limited to family," Madison finished.

Amy shook her head slightly. She must've missed some of what Madison told her. Had she said anything about Lauren? Did she **know **anything about their other best friend?

"What about Lauren," she asked in a rushed manner.

Madison shrugged. "She got hurt. That's all I know. I've tried calling her mom and her brother, but neither of them called me back."

Amy suddenly slapped herself in the head. "I'm so stupid! Her dad's been to the hospital 3 times in the last week to visit Ricky. I should've asked." 

Madison shrugged. "Don't beat yourself up. It's been a long week for everyone."

Amy nodded. It was Friday again. The shooting had taken place one week ago.

"Do you know when school starts again," she asked Madison, changing the subject.

Madison shrugged again, wrapping her arm in Amy's. Madison pulled her over to an empty bench and sat down. Amy looked behind her, seeing Sierra talking to a few kids she must've known when she was in school at Grant High School. She couldn't help but grimace as John was trying to crawl across the grass over to her. She stood and walked over to her son, lifting him into her arms. She walked back over to Madison, sitting down on the bench.

"I'm not sure," Madison finally answered her. She was scrolling through numbers on her phone as she spoke. "Last I heard, the plan was like two or three weeks off so that funerals can be had and people can have some time to grieve before getting back into the swing of things."

"And we're sharing with Van Nuys," Amy asked.

"As far as I know," Madison mumbled as she typed up a text. She spoke slowly, trying to form two separate thoughts as she typed at the same time. "I was told, it'll be a block schedule. Every other day, they'll go to school from eight until noon, and on the alternating days they'll be in school from eight until eleven. We'll be in school from one to four every other day, and on their alternating days, we'll be in school from twelve to four."

"So seven classes a day for the teachers, but three or four for students, depending on the day," Amy surmised. Madison only nodded in response.

"Baba," John whined, signaling that he was hungry.

"Okay," Amy gave in. She turned to Madison once more. "I'll call you later if I hear anything about Lauren."

"And I'll call you if I hear anything," Madison murmured before standing and walking away. Amy shifted John to her good side and then stood, walking over to Sierra. She waited patiently while Sierra finished up a conversation and then took Neveah back from one of the girls standing in the circle she was in. She said goodbyes to several people and then walked back to her car with Amy. She settled Neveah in her carseat and then helped Amy to buckle John in before they both got into the front seat.

"Lunch," Sierra asked as she started the car and put it into drive.

"Yeah," Amy sighed.

_Let me tell you something darlin,_

_I've got a story for you now_

_About how I don't need you to rescue me_

_But one day you be wishing I stuck around_

Amy crashed against the empty space on Ricky's bed, yawning. She hadn't done much other than watch John run and play, but her body was physically exhausted. She was sure that might have something to do with the fact that she'd just taken pain medication, but she didn't really care.

Ricky hobbled back to the bed and she groaned, moving over so that he could have adequate space to lie down. She snaked under his arm, burying her face in his shoulder wearily. He ran his hand lazily up and down her lower back, doing his best to comfort her.

"Love you," Amy mumbled wearily as she looked up at him.

"Love you too," Ricky murmured back at her.

Amy turned her face back into his shoulder, hoping to get some rest before her parents would be back and probably make her move to her own bed. Her hopes were dashed as the door opened. Ricky turned his head away from hers.

"Hey," he tried speak more clearly, but his voice was still gruff.

Adrian only waved as she walked over to the bed. She touched his hand lightly before he turned it to the best of his ability and attempted to squeeze it.

"We've all been itching for an update since we heard you were awake, but your parents said one visitor a day. Everyone volunteered me," she explained quietly as she sat down in the chair next to the bed.

Ricky nodded. "Things have been pretty intense lately. I think we're just trying to take things day by day."

"I thought so," Adrian agreed. "So how are you otherwise?"

Ricky tipped his head toward his shoulder, an attempt to shrug. "A mess. I keep thinking about the last time he did something."

Adrian nodded. The only people who knew about it were sitting in that room, and they all knew that none of them were going to mention it…

_His hands shook as he knocked on Adrian's door. How would he explain this to her? He hadn't know what to do; he just wanted Bob gone. If this was the way to do it - the most obvious way he could think of, then it must be okay, right?_

It had to be. He didn't have choice. 

"_I've been calling you!" She exclaimed as she pulled the door open. _

"_I know," he contested. "I had a visitor."_

"_Did you check your messages," she asked quickly._

_Ricky shook his head quickly. "No." _

"_You didn't check your messages?" She almost yelled, but it was more out of the fact that this felt absolutely absurd than anything else. This was the most important news anyone could give him and he wasn't going to receive it?_

"_No," he said again._

"_They got him. Your father, he's been arrested," she explained proudly. _

"_For," he questioned, praying silently that she didn't know. _

"_Possession of drugs," she rambled, tears burning in her eyes. "Jack saw him buying drugs, he called me, I called my dad…They got him." _

_He brought his fist to face, covering his mouth. He didn't know what to feel. Panic? Relief? Terrified? Like he'd just gone backwards about a thousand steps in recovery? Was there a __**right **__emotion to feel?_

"_I have to tell you something," he whimpered raspily._

Adrian's smile fell slightly and she opened the door a bit wider to let him in. Ricky walked past her and over to the kitchenette, leaning against the counter, facing away from her.

"I…" He shook his head. "Your dad, Dr. Bowman; they were with m-me. They caught Bob with m-me." 

_Adrian swallowed hard, feeling like she'd just been kicked in the throat. "What," she whispered loudly. "Ricky…"  
_

_He shook his head again. "Don't. Don't sympathize with me. I just…I called Amy when they took him in. And then I came here…" _

"That wasn't your fault, Ricky," Adrian tried to comfort him.

"I know," he nodded, looking over at her. Tears glistened over his eyes, making them shine. "I do know that, now. I'm never going to be able to stop him when he comes around. He just…" He shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek. "He'll never stop. And it doesn't matter how hard I try to fight him; he's always got an alterior motive."

"It'll be okay," Adrian whispered. Her voice came a bit harsher than a few moments before, like she was trying to not cry. "It'll be okay."

He wasn't sure Amy was still awake, but he assumed she could hear them, because she tightened her grip around him and buried her head further in his shoulder. Sure, it made his pain rise, but it was a pain he would welcome. Keeping his girlfriend and son safe were his priorities now. He would make that work somehow.

"Tell me something useful," Ricky murmured a moment later, looking back up at Adrian.

She bit the side of her lip, looking down at Amy. "I um…I talked to my dad today."

Ricky nodded. "About what?" 

"They have a full list of everyone who died," she exclaimed. "And um…" She looked at Amy, and then back up at Ricky.

"What," he questioned softly. "Who is it?"

Adrian sucked in a deep breath, and then let it out, unable to tell him. So she tried again, and it slipped past her anyway. Once more, she took in a breath and looked up at him. "Her friend Lauren is on it," she spoke breathily.

Ricky gulped. His girlfriend had lost a best friend. Someone he looked to as a father figure, had lost his daughter. He didn't know where to turn.


	8. One Way To Afford A Horizon

**A/N: **What can I say….I know I'm sorry is not NEARLY enough, and I can't even begin to assume that just posting this will make up for it. My life has been a little crazy in the last six months, but I swear to you, this baby still has life in it! You can expect another update soon!

I'm SOOO sorry for the long wait. Do enjoy!

(And for NCIS Tony DiNozzo fans (yes, I'm plugging my own story), I have a story over on that board. Do check out (and review!))

_Chapter 8_

_One Way To Afford A Horizon_

The silence that sat over the room was something thicker than any air that any of them had breathed before. No one spoke. No one moved. They had all expected this day to come, but it doesn't mean any of them was anymore ready for it.

Amy held her arm tightly to her chest as Ricky stood next to her. She didn't want to be here. She wanted to be at home, watching something futile on TV, wasting her time pretending to finish her reading list for school. Of course even if they got almost a month off from school, they still had to still do schoolwork. Who cared that there had been people who died? Who cared that there were students who were shot and survived.

Ricky opened his mouth to speak, but they were all at a loss for words as they stared at the crime scene tape. It had taken quite a bit of pressuring Ruben to get this far, and he refused to turn back now. There were things they wanted from their lockers, and slowly, they were letting students in to gather their things, once they were cleared as non-evidence.

Amy gulped as she looked down at the long since dried blood on the floor. The various markers gave away what belonged to who. There had to be at least half a pint of blood just from where they had laid for no more than five minutes. She could see the curve of where she had bled with her arm thrown over his head, and the various spots where different wounds on his body secreted blood onto the floor.

Adrian stepped around them, watching all the markers. "I don't know about you guys, but I don't want to spend any more time in here. I'm going to my locker and getting out," she spoke quickly. Ruben followed quickly behind her, only turning around once to look back at Ricky and Amy for a mere second.

Ricky settled back down into his wheelchair, and his mother pushed it forward, heading towards the main hall. It took Amy a moment to realize they were moving, but she followed quickly behind, only stopping when she reached her locker.

She slowly turned the combination, having to try it three times before she dialed it in right. She kept turning her head to make sure Ricky was okay.

Very quickly, she pulled down the few pictures she had in it, and shoved them into a random folder before moving the few folders and notebooks she had left there, into her bag, and the several keepsakes she had in her locker, before she slammed it shut.

Ricky didn't have such an easy time. Standing up was hard enough, but trying to spin his combination with his non-dominant hand proved to be difficult as well. After two tries, he got it open and gulped as things began to tumble out. Apparently other students had already been here, because dozens of envelopes fell to the floor in front of his feet. His mother moved to pick them up while he turned back to his locker. More laid on top of his books, and he moved to toss them into the bag his mother was holding for him.

Finally, he turned back to his locker and began pulling out the pictures of he, Amy, and John, down from the inside of the locker wall. Below the few photos of them he had, there was a photo of their entire group of friends, including Shawn and Zoe. It had been taken one night after a football game, on the beach when they were celebrating Grace's birthday.

The pictures below it were just random snapshots that he'd been given by various people. A random photo of him holding a baby - someone who had been a foster child he lived with. She'd only lived with them for a few short months before she was adopted by a couple. Ricky had only been 13, and was still getting used to living with people who wouldn't hurt him.

The photo next to it was a rare one - an elementary school photo. To anyone who looked at it, he looked like a happy child, but that wasn't much truth to it. The light hit him in a way that it didn't show the glaring bruise under is chin, or the stitches on his lip. He'd only been given the photo after finding out that the school had kept all the yearly photos taken of him. His teachers had wondered more than he'd ever said, but of course, none of them ever actually said anything.

The final photo left in his locker was one taken at Christmas time. Amy had agreed that they could get their two families together to see John open his presents. Rather than do it at either's homes, they decided to meet up and do it in a hotel in the city. Getting one of the banquet rooms hadn't been easy, but they'd split the cost and ended up turning Christmas day into more of a party for both of their families. It had been the beginning of growing into a family.

The photo itself contained both of their families. Amy and Ricky sat next to each other, smiling at each other, while Ashley sat in front of Amy's legs, and one of Ricky's foster siblings sat across from her. Their mothers sat on either side of them, and their fathers behind them. One of the concierges had taken the photo a few moments too soon, and caught the truth on camera.

It was a photo Ricky had kept to himself for months, until he and Amy actually started becoming something more than just parents who were friends.

The hallway started to spin around him and he reached behind himself gripping the arm of the wheelchair. Margaret reached out to grab his arm, but his slipped past her, leaning against the lockers in front of him.

"I just need a….minute," he whispered breathily as he slumped against them. He slowly slipped down to the floor, and a moment later, his head lolled to the side, unconscious.

"_He's pretty screwed up," someone spoke loudly. _

"_He's been through hell," he could hear Margaret saying. "His mother gave birth to him at 17 and she was also on drugs. It screwed him up physically as well as emotionally." _

"_Yeah, but who takes five bullets willingly. I would've fought back," the person argued back._

"_His back was turned to the first two shots, in the neck and his shoulder, and they knocked him out. When he came to, Bob was on top of him with a gun. There was no __**possible**__ way for him to fight back," Amy growled. _

"_Whatever." _

"Ricky? Ricky!" Amy whimpered, gently shaking his shoulder.

Ricky's eyes fluttered open slowly. He shook his head wearily, slowly sitting up with the help of his mother. He looked around, momentarily confused about being in the school, before everything flooded back to him.

"You feeling okay," his mom asked.

Ricky nodded. "Yeah, just tired," he shrugged.

_**-  
c'mon mary, get your ass outta bed  
- **_

Grace flipped her notebook shut and stood, crossing her bedroom. At the same moment, her door opened and her mother stood before her.

"Adrian called. Some of the other kids went over to the school to empty out their lockers," her mother started.

Grace simply shrugged it off. "I know," she mumbled. "I told her I didn't care if I got my stuff back."

"Okay," Kathleen muttered, confused. She crossed her arms at Grace, confused at her. "I thought you had pictures of your father in your locker that you just _couldn't_ live without," she teased.

Grace shrugged, stepping past her. She limped in her grey yoga pants as she grabbed a Lancers sweater off of her door handle and pulled it on. "I don't want to go back to that school."

Kathleen nodded, brushing a stray strand of hair out of Grace's face. Grace kept her gaze on the ground.

"You know if you need to talk to someone, Grace-"

Grace quickly shook her head. "I just…" she trailed off, not sure there was an ending to her sentence. "I'm fine. I'm going to meet with Jack."

Kathleen nodded, letting her daughter go. She watched Grace descend down the stairs and heard the back door slam moments later, but she couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't something Grace was just going to be okay with.

Jack pulled his earphones off as his mother stepped into the room. Everyone had been so on edge in the last week - every time he turned around, his parents were asking if he was okay; if he needed to talk to anyone. He felt perfectly fine. Sure, he was a little shook up by the things that had happened at school, but he knew full well that there were other people who were even more freaked out than he was. He was far more worried about Grace than he was himself.

_Speak of the devil_.

"Grace is outside," his mother explained as he settled his iPod on the nightstand.

He nodded and stood, thanking his mother. He walked down the hall, into the foyer and out the front door. Grace sat on the top step of his front porch, tightly held together. Jack slowly pulled the door shut behind him and walked over next to her. He sat down on the step and gently placed a hand on the small of her back.

"How's it going," he asked gently.

Grace shrugged. "Fine, I guess," she muttered numbly.

"You getting any sleep yet," Jack questioned.

Grace only shrugged again. She rested her head against his shoulder.

_The bell rang, and everyone stood, picking up conversation from where they had dropped it the last time the teacher had told everyone to quiet down. Adrian slipped her arm into Grace's and started talking about a party she wanted Grace to go with her to the day after tomorrow. _

_Half the students were into the hallway when the the exit signs started blinking. Surprisingly, their blaring sirens didn't join in, but instead the P.A. system clicked and Mr. Sedlack began talking. _

"_Attention all students: we are on lockdown. Please make your way to the nearest exit or classroom and proceed with lockdown rulings. This is __**not**__ a test. Repeat, __**we are on lockdown.**__ Please calmly make your way to the nearest exit or classroom and proceed with lockdown procedures."_

_Grace and Adrian both looked at each other, confused. Most of the other students ignored the announcement as well, and continued on their way to their next classes. _

_Grace stood outside of her English class and stretched up to wrap an arm around Jack in a hug as he walked up to her. _

"_Can I have a drink," she asked as he sipped from his water bottle. He nodded and handed it to her. _

_She had it halfway to her lips when someone blitzed past her and knocked the bottle out of her hands. She gaped and then looked up from where the freshman had been running from and screamed. A student, someone she didn't know, was waving a gun around. She threw her hands up over her ears as a bullet fired through the air. A moment later, students were running for the doors she stood in front of. She screamed as the pressure became tighter and tighter. More screams blew through the air as a bullet pierced the glass and she went tumbling to the floor. People ran over and around her. She screamed and curled into a ball where she lay, waiting until everyone was gone before she felt herself pulled up from the ground. She pushed the hair out of her face and saw that it was Adrian dragging her down the hall. _

"_What are you doing," she growled at Adrian. "We should be running!"_

_Adrian shook her head. "I saw someone with a gun follow everyone outside. It's safer in here. C'mon, the band room is just down the hall. They don't have any music classes until third period."_

A lone tear drifted down her cheek as she readjusted her head on Jack's shoulder. Yes, she was extremely exhausted, but no. She wasn't sleeping.

"I'm fine," she repeated.

_**-  
blow the candles out, looks like I'm solo tonight  
- **_

Ben knocked lightly on Adrian's door as he adjusted the bag on his shoulder. He'd just come from Grant High School, and, upon Ruben's request, had grabbed all of their other friend's things. Adrian had been supposed to get Grace's things, but according to Ruben, she had just wanted to get in and get out. That made sense to Ben. He didn't really want to be there himself.

Adrian opened the door and smiled slightly. Sure, she'd been over to hang out with Ashley and Amy a little bit since school had been "out", but it was nice to see a fresh face. Especially considering it was looking like Grace had gone off the deep end.

She opened the door open a little bit more and allowed Ben into the house. They both only smiled at each other for a moment, before embracing in a friendly hug.

"How're you doing," Ben asked as he followed her into the kitchen. He settled his messenger bag on an empty stool as they both stood on either sides of the island.

Adrian shrugged. She ran a hand through her tangled mane. "I'm tired," she admitted. "Grace isn't sleeping well, so she's been calling me at night and talking about all kinds of pointless crap, and then during the day, she either shows up here or wants me at her place. This morning I told her I needed some space."

Ben looked sat her surprised, but nodded. "I get how that can be." He gave Adrian a once-over and pursed his lips slightly. She was in clothes she'd been wearing the last time he saw her - two days earlier. There were food stains on the white tunic she wore, and her sweat pants were pretty wrinkled.

"Did I come by too early," he asked suddenly. "I don't want to interrupt if you wanted to get cleaned up."

Adrian shrugged. "Maybe in a bit, if you were just stopping by. Otherwise…"

Ben shrugged, shaking his head. "Go ahead. I've got time to burn up."

Adrian nodded and thanked him before running for the stairs. She was about to round them to where she wouldn't be seen, but then stopped and turned back to look at Ben.

"I don't really get why we're getting all this time off anyway. I mean, I get that they need to iron out the details of where to send everyone to school, but most of us aren't hurt badly. Not like Ricky or Amy," she wondered.

Ben rolled a shoulder. "I think it's more for our parents than us. Like they're supposed to have time to grieve that we're the ones who **didn't** die. Y'know?"

Adrian thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. She took her foot off of the next step for a minute, looking back more clearly at Ben. "But that doesn't really matter for people like you and me - people whose parents work every day and don't really have the time to take off."

Ben only nodded in agreement.

Fifteen minutes later, Adrian was back in the kitchen with a fresh pair of jeans on and a clean tank top. Her hair was wrapped up in a towel as she sipped on a glass of orange juice. Ben was flipping through some of the things he had pulled out of his locker. Most of the pictures were just of him and other friends; all of his photos of Amy had come down when she and Ricky started exclusively dating a few months earlier.

Adrian, meanwhile, was going through Grace's things. A lot of the pictures were of Adrian and, or their friends, or of Grace and, or her family.

"Aww," she chuckled softly.

Been looked up from what he was reading and looked at the picture Grace was looking at. He flipped it up for a moment. _Grace and Marshal_ _1997_

"Nineteen Ninety-seven would've made Grace four," Adrian guessed as she set the picture down. Grace was smiling obnoxiously while she held an apple in her hand, while sitting in her father's lap. Marshal was simply smiling back at the camera.

"I wonder if we'll ever see this Grace again," Ben muttered. Ever since her dad had died, little pieces of her seemed to have changed. Ever since the shooting though, she seemed even more distant, like she'd fallen off her rocker.

Adrian brushed his comment off. "I don't want to think about it," she excused. "Everyone's so stressed out by different things. I just want things to start over again."

Before Ben could say another word, the back door opened. Both he and Adrian turned and watched as Amy and Ashley walked into the house. To Ben's surprise, Amy and Adrian had bonded over their fear of losing Ricky. Slowly but surely, they were learning to be friends.

"We just needed to get out of the house," Ashley explained as they stepped up to the island.

Adrian nodded and pushed a plate of cut up fruit towards them. Adrian picked up a piece of an apple while Amy simply stood next to her. She held her arm protectively against her body while her eyes flittered over what Ben and Adrian were looking at.

"All this bullshit is so useless," she suddenly mumbled, catching the other three's attentions.

"What," Ben questioned.

"It's bullshit," Amy repeated. She looked up at him, and then Adrian. "Yeah. We live by everyone elses rules, do what** they **tell us to do up until a certain age just because some idiots decided that at 18, that's when we should suddenly get to make all the decisions in our lives. Forget about the people who had guns held to their heads or had babies and had to change their whole lives. Forget about the kids whose parents died at five, six years old, and had to learn to live without them. Forget about the kids who raise themselves because their parents either aren't around, or spend so much time arguing about their marriage, they forget why they're married in the first place. It's stupid bullshit."

Ben and Ashley still looked at Amy astonished, but Adrian nodded. "You're right. It is." She paused for a moment and shrugged, biting her bottom lip as she reached out and placed a comforting hand on Amy's bicep. "But that's life. And it goes on whether we like it or not."

Amy's bottom lip trembled. She felt like she cried all the time these days. "Yet so many people are dead, and they shouldn't be. I have three funerals to attend in the next two days and I just…" she shook her head, too choked up to finish.

Adrian and Ashley both hugged her gently. She rested her chin on her sister's shoulder, mouthing an apology to Ben. He just shook his head.

_**-  
Just close your eyes and remember; everything is beautiful  
- **_

Ricky settled a stack of photos on his coffee table and pulled roughly at his blankets. Moving his leg was a nearly impossible task; Dr. Kosh had said that it could be a few weeks before the swelling went completely down.

He flipped open one of his binders as the door to his apartment opened. He looked up in time to see Margaret settling a bag of groceries on the table in his kitchenette.

Ricky turned on his couch, settling is broken leg on the coffee table, and keeping his right arm close to his body.

"How're you doing, kiddo?" Margaret asked as she began to put away the groceries she'd picked up for him.

Ricky only shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Tired."

Margaret nodded, folding down an empty bag. "And Amy and John?"

Ricky pushed himself up onto his good leg and hopped over to the table, grabbing an apple off of it. He took a bite out of it and then settled in a chair while Margaret finished putting the groceries away. She then grabbed juice from the fridge and poured them both a cup.

"John's better now that Amy and I are home. I don't know about Amy though. She still blames herself for everything that happened," Ricky explained. "I'm worried about her."

Margaret nodded again as she sat down at the table. She rested her hand over his. "And you are?"

Ricky gave her a small smirk. "I'm really okay, mom. I'm having trouble sleeping, but I guess you could say I'm doing better than everyone else."

Margaret smiled, shaking her head at him. "How is it that you were hurt the worst, and yet, out of all you and your friends, you're doing the best?"

Ricky shrugged. "I guess because I've lived through all of this before." He pushed himself to his feet and hopped over to the counter with his cup. He downed everything in it and then rinsed out the cup before dropping it into the sink.

"So, your father and I want you to move home," Margaret muttered suddenly. Ricky turned back to her, surprised at what she was suggesting.

"Mom-"

Margaret cut him off, shaking her head. "We understand that you like having your own place because of John, but the doctor said you won't have full use of your arm for a while. You need someone to help you out."

Ricky shook his head and huffed. "Mom, I'm gonna be fine. Most of the time I'll be at Amy's or by you. I'm gonna be okay."

Margaret set her jaw, not sure that she liked that he was trying to bargain with her, but when Ricky wanted something a certain way, he usually got it. Finally, she sighed and nodded. She stood, grabbing her purse.

"Well I have to get home. What are your plans for the rest of the day," she asked as she pulled her coat on.

Ricky shrugged, pushing himself off the counter. "I'll probably sleep for a while and then Amy and John are supposed to come over tonight for dinner."

Margaret placed a hand on her hip. "You're not going to attempt to cook, **are you**?"

Ricky chuckled and shook his head. "No. She's bringing takeout."

Margaret sighed heavily. "Okay, kiddo." She walked to the door, waving to him before she walked out. Ricky hopped back over to the couch, resting his leg over some pillows. He grabbed his TV remote off the table and turned it on before he rolled over and fell asleep.


	9. Put Your Hand Into The Fire

**A/N: **Miss me? Miss Ice? Me too! I finally got a spark of inspiration after watching the last few episodes of TSLOTAT, and have written (so far) three new chapters which you'll see in the coming weeks :). That said, I can't apologize enough for holding out so long on you guys. I hope you enjoy this!_**  
**_

Chapter 9

_Put Your Hand Into The Fire_

Amy stared down at the water, watching the water as it slammed into the shore. Ricky was lying down next to her, playing with some sort of stacking toy with John. There two funerals tomorrow; both were girls that Amy had met since being a teen mother, but she was putting off calling anyone. Hell, she was putting off calling Lauren's parents. The mere idea of attending the funeral of one of her best friends was tearing her apart.

Ricky reached up and brushed his hand across her back. "Hey."

She looked back at him, brushing her face across the back of her hand to wipe away the tears that had been falling. "Hey." She looked down at John and smiled sadly.

Ricky frowned. "You okay?" He reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "I know all of this is getting to you. That's why I thought coming to the beach might help."

Amy shrugged. She leaned back somewhat, holding her arm tightly against her body. "I'm just… All I can think about is how people came into our school with guns and tried to kill us. A-and how your dad-"

Ricky's face turned grim.

"**Sorry**. I mean Bob. I just… I don't understand how all of this happened. I don't understand how a middle-aged man got into the school with a gun. I don't understand how it was on the same day that five guys decided to bring guns to school and shoot at us and our friends. _I __**don't **__understand._"

Ricky shook his head at her. "You're trying to make sense out of something that no one can understand. We've already said, people are going to try and put what's happened into a box, but you can't. Not really."

Amy chewed on her bottom lip, and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "I don't understand how you're so…okay."

Ricky shrugged. "Because what happened didn't surprise me, I guess. We both knew Bob was out there, and trying to get at me. I wish it hadn't happened, but what can you do?"

Amy nodded, letting her gaze drift back to the sand. "I hate him. I wish someone would kill him. I'll never-…I…" She shook her head, and more tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Ricky sat up and wrapped his arm around her. John crawled into his lap, trying to get the attention of both his parents. "You what?"

She shook her head at him. "I'm never going to forget seeing Adrian's dad carry you out of school. I can't forget seeing what he did to you in the band room. And I hate all of it!"

She moved to brush her bangs out of her eyes again, but Ricky did it for her.

"I'm sorry you had to see those things," he said honestly. "Have you thought about talking to anyone?"

Amy shook her head. She straightened her legs out and pulled John gently into her lap. He curled up against her chest. "I'm not as bad off as other people."

Ricky furrowed his brow. He kissed her forehead gently. "You were a victim and a witness to major crimes. We were both shot at, and you were forced to see things you never should have! You're as entitled to help as anyone else is, Amy."

She shook her head, frowning slightly. "I just don't know."

Ricky set his jaw at her, moving his arm from around her and brushing his thumb across her cheek. "You're not alone, Amy. I'll go with you, if you'd like."

She looked up into his eyes, searching for any sense that he might not be telling her the truth.

"Are you sure," she murmured quietly.

Ricky nodded again. He kissed her lightly on the lips, and then the three of them laid back down on their blanket. John giggled, crawling on top of the both of them, and then snatching his toys from beside Ricky to resume playing with them.

Amy turned into him and buried her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes for a moment. Several more tears ran down her face before she reached up and wiped them away. She pushed herself up onto her knees and then stood. Ricky sat up.

"Ready to go home," he asked.

Amy nodded, reaching a hand down to him, which he took. He stood shakily on his good leg, and helped Amy as best he could to get John's things packed into the small beach bag she'd brought with him. He hopped every few seconds to steady himself before he picked up John. Amy took John from him and then they began the trek back up the beach. It was far from easy, as Ricky was hopping on one foot, and stopping every few feet to steady himself.

Eventually though, they reached the car. Ricky settled into the passenger seat while Amy buckled John into his seat. Once he was settled, she walked around the car and got into the drivers seat and started the car. She looked over at Ricky for a moment. He was dozing in the passenger seat. She chuckled softly to herself and reached across him, pulling his seatbelt on and pushing it into the clip. Ricky opened his eyes and looked up at her.

"Sorry. Did I fall asleep?"

Amy smiled, and reached up, brushing her hand across his cheek She kissed his cheek lightly and then settled back in her seat and started the car. The engine revved a little before she backed the car up and headed towards the main roads. Ricky reached up and turned some of the dials on the radio, trying to find a channel to settle on.

Amy drove rather slowly, taking her time in heading towards Ricky's apartment. On the way, they passed the park, where some kids were still gathered, talking in different circles. Some were holding hands praying. Others were talking about random subjects that didn't really matter. A few groups were actually settled on some of the dozens of benches that had since been placed in the park, working on homework. And then of course, there were the few stragglers here and there that were sitting somewhere alone, reading a book or listening to their iPods.

A few blocks down, she passed by the high school, even more slowly. Each doorway was blocked off by yellow police tape, but she could see lights on in some of the different rooms. She knew that technically, she didn't _have _ to go back to Grant High School if she didn't want to, but she was very undecided. There was a large part of her that didn't know if she could ever go into that band room ever again, whether it was rebuilt or not. She couldn't imagine it at that point.

Ricky reached his hand over and grasped hers. She looked up at him, realizing she'd come to a completely stall in front of the school.

"We don't have to go back there," he told her. "I've only got one year left; you, two. We could transfer to Van Nuys permanently."

Amy looked back up at the school again. "I don't know yet. I don't know anything right now."

She stared a moment longer and then gently pressed down on the gas, and made a few turns, heading towards her house instead, while Ricky dozed once again in the passenger seat.

When they arrived, Amy got out of the car and walked around it to retrieve John from his car seat. She walked up to the house and let herself in, where she met up with his father. He took John from her so that she could go back out and help Ricky out of the car, into the house. Once they were inside, they began the trek up to her room. Ricky struggled out of his t-shirt while Amy exited to the next room to check in on John, where George was settling him in his crib. She walked over to them and kissed John on his forehead before she turned around and walked back into her own bedroom.

Ricky was laying lazily on her bed, stretched out across it, looming on the edge of consciousness. Amy laughed softly to herself and then grabbed a fresh pair of pajamas and changed quickly into them before she walked over to the bed and sat down next to him. Ricky opened his eyes wearily and looked up at her. She smiled down at him and settled herself under the blankets before she laid down. Ricky moved around a bit on the bed so that he could get under the blankets. He turned onto his side, and Amy turned her back to him, spooning against him. Ricky rested his arm gently over her and kissed her temple. He was asleep again a few minutes later.

Amy stared at the wall, watching shadows play on the wall while she listened to the sound of Ricky's breathing. Every now and then, a tear fell down her face. For all the things that had happened in the last two weeks, what was breaking her heart most was that he was so _okay_, and she felt anything but. She couldn't imagine him not being there with her. She couldn't imagine living a life where her son didn't know his father. She didn't **want** that life.

As if sensing her thoughts, Ricky's arms tightened around her. Amy turned over in his arms and wrapped her good arm around him. She buried her face in his neck and breathed in his natural scent as they laid there. Even if she couldn't guarantee that he would be with her forever, she wanted to hold onto him as tightly as she could for as long as possible.

_**-  
If gravity happens, then I'll fasten wings to my shoes  
- **_

Adrian knocked lightly on the Bauman's door, looking around. It was almost 9 PM, but she was getting bored of spending every minute alone. Her mother was working, and her father's work had just doubled, so he was almost never home. She would've gone over to Amy's but she'd seen Amy and Ricky going up to her room when they'd gotten to the house, and she didn't want to go in and bug anyone. Instead, she'd packed up the things from Grace's locker and decided to head over to her house instead.

The front door opened quickly, and Kathleen smiled down at Adrian. "Adrian! It's nice to see you."

"Is Grace home," she asked.

Katleen nodded, opening the door more to allow Adrian entrance. "She's up in her room. You can go straight up if you'd like."

Adrian nodded. She stepped around Kathleen and headed up the staircase to Grace's room. She knocked lightly on the open door, and Grace dropped the book she was reading, onto her chest, and looked up Adrian.

"Hey," she said quietly.

"Hey," Adrian answered back. She walked in the room with the bag and over to Grace's bed.

"I thought you might want your stuff in your locker back," Adrian continued. She began pulling out some of the books, which Grace stacked on top one another as she checked them over, and then set them aside. Lastly, Adrian handed her the photos she'd taken down, wrapped up in a brown paper bag.

Grace took them from her and placed them each on the bed. She looked down at the photos that Adrian had brought her. Her fingers shook as she brushed her hand over one of the many of she and her father. It was one taken in a professional studio, with the two of them hugging and smiling. It had only been a few years before they had taken Tom in.

Adrian picked up some of the other photos and flipped through them. "How old were you in these?"

Grace looked up at the ones she was looking at. "Seven and ten."

Adrian nodded and set them aside. She leaned over and hugged Grace gently. "Have you talked to anyone?"

Grace nodded slowly, setting the photos down on her bed. One by one, she picked up each of them and created a small, neat stack. Once she'd picked them all up, she placed them in a small paper bag, and placed the bag into her nightstand.

"My mom sent me to a therapist a few days ago. He gave me antidepressants and something to help me sleep," she explained.

"Is it helping," Adrian asked.

Grace gave a small shrug. "I guess. I actually got sleep last night. I just… running from gunfire, Adrian? School is supposed to be safe."

Adrian nodded. She leaned back against the headboard and rested her arms across her stomach. "I know. I can't believe how many people….How many of our friends…"

Grace leaned back as well. "The girls who were on the cheerleading squad are being buried tomorrow. And everyone is going to the teachers funerals on Friday."

Adrian grabbed Grace's arm and leaned down against her shoulder. "I'm just glad we don't have to go to a funeral of anyone who's in our circle."

"Me too," Grace whispered softly. For a fleeting moment, she'd forgotten about Lauren. "But Amy…"

Adrian sat back up slowly, remembering Lauren without any need to mention her name. "I forgot about her friend. I can't believe the luck she and Ricky have had lately. I can't imagine that either."

Grace looked around her room. "I can't… We could've died that day. Some of us almost did. We almost never got to see our parents again. Sleep in our own beds again…"

Adrian looked around as well. Grace was right. "All the things that we almost lost."

Grace looked back at her with tears in her eyes. "I want to live long enough to get married and have kids, Adrian. I want to go to medical school and get my drivers license, and graduate college. I almost lost that. And you. A-and Ricky, and Amy, and Ben, and Jack, and Madison… And Lauren, she **did** lose that."

Adrian nodded. "I know Grace."

Grace looked around her room again and then jumped up off her bed. She walked over to her desk and grabbed her laptop before she walked back over to the bed and sat down next to Adrian. She opened it up and typed in her password and waited for her computer to load. Once it had, she opened a fresh document and started to type.

"What are you doing," Adrian asked, bewildered.

Grace looked at her for a split second. "I want to make a bucket list, and I want to do everything on it before I ever shop for a casket. I've seen too many people die lately. No more."

Adrian stared at her for a long moment, surprised at her initiative. She hadn't seen Grace this determined in a while, and it actually seemed unlike her in some ways. After all Grace had gone through with the death of her father, and her mother remarrying, and then having people shooting in the school and Ricky and Amy almost dying…there were almost too many things to speak of. Everyone was so shaken lately, and it was surprising to see _anyone_ acting anywhere near normal.

Adrian reached down next to the bed and grabbed the tote bag she'd brought with her. She opened it up and grabbed a pen and a notebook from inside it. While Grace typed vigorously on her laptop, Adrian scribbled little notations into her notebook. Nothing special; just something to pass the time.

After a while, Grace closed her computer though, and set it aside. She moved down the end of the bed and looked over Adrian's shoulder at what she was writing.

"You're writing a letter to Ricky," she asked incredulously.

Adrian shrugged, flipping her notebook shut quickly. "I haven't really talked to him since I saw him that day in the hospital. I'm just wondering how he's doing."

"So why not go see him and Amy? They're pretty much inseparable these days," Grace muttered.

Adrian nodded. "Exactly. Ricky and I were friends before the shooting, and before he and Amy decided that they could try dating each other. I just want to see how he is and talk to him without Amy around for once."

Grace raised an eyebrow at Adrian. "You're not going to try and convince Ricky to leave Amy and be with you now, are you?"

"No!" Adrian said defiantly. "We're **just**friends, Grace. I just want to know how he's doing and if he's okay."

"Okay," Grace drawled lowly.

Adrian turned her head to retort, but she was stopped by Kathleen standing in the doorway.

"It's getting late so you shouldn't take too long, but Jack and Ben stopped by. They're down in the kitchen right now."

Adrian and Grace shared a long look before they both got up and walked lazily down the stairs to the kitchen. Ben and Jack were both helping themselves to a tray of cookies that had probably been offered to them by Grace's mom. Grace and Adrian walked over to them and each grabbed a cookie for themselves. They munched quietly for a few minutes before anyone spoke up.

"You guys ready to back to school next week," Ben asked off-handle.

Adrian shrugged. "It's only half days for the next five months. Not that big of a deal."

Ben and Jack nodded. "Are either of you girls thinking about transferring to Van Nuys full time?"

Adrian shook her head. "I'm not. I don't care what happened. Grant is my school."

Ben and Jack both turned their attention to Grace, who was in the process of swallowing a bite from her cookie. She wasn't as quick to answer.

"I don't know yet," she answered honestly. "I don't know if I want to go back to Grant next year. I don't know if I can."

Ben, Jack, and Adrian just nodded. Half the student body was talking about transferring. No one could really be mad if they didn't come back. They were all just trying to heal.

_**-  
Everything that's worth having comes with trails worth withstanding  
- **_

The next few days passed lazily. They often began with dressing in back and white and attending someone's funeral. Not much was said among their group of friends. They ate together at the various luncheons that followed funerals, and talked lightly about going back to school, but the air was tense. No one knew how to find their footing to talk about they'd all been through together. Worst of all, they were all anxiously avoiding the last few days of the week. Friday would bring the funerals of two freshman teachers, and Lauren's funeral was on Saturday. No one was really talking about either events, but the elephant in the room was enough to make each and everyone want to scream.

Amy yawned as she settled in the grass next to Ricky. Everyone had agreed to meet at the park for lunch, and each in their own way were trying to pull each other out of the shells they had been living in.

She reached into the basket she'd brought with them and pulled out a bottle of water for herself, and took a drink out of it. Ricky was lying down next to her, in a pair of shorts and a sweater. His eyes were closed, but she knew he was only resting, and not actually sleeping. Adrian and Ben had taken John over to the swing set and were pushing him on it.

Grace walked over to them and sat down, carrying her own basket and a bag. She reached into it and pulled out a bowl full of fruit and opened it up, settling it on the blanket between them. Ricky leaned up on his good arm and exhaled tiredly.

"It's really nice out for the first week of February," he yawned.

Amy nodded, crossing on of her legs over the other. She was wearing Bermuda shorts and a black tank top, and a light grey and white striped cardigan over it. She grabbed a strawberry out of the bowl Grace had placed in front of them.

"John seems really excited to be out of the house and somewhere besides another indoors," Amy mentioned.

Ricky looked over at Adrian, who was still pushing John on the swings. He was squealing happily on the swing. He turned his attention back to Amy and Grace and sat up fully. He grabbed an apple out of the basket Amy had brought with them and took a bite out of it.

"So how are you liking being in a wheelchair," Grace asked him.

Ricky only shrugged. "I barely use it. I spend most of my time hopping around from one spot to another."

"He's just saying that because he doesn't like being dependant on other people," Amy teased.

Ricky took another bite out of his apple and shook his head at her. He leaned over and kissed her chastely.

Grace dug through the bag she had brought with her, and pulled out a notebook. She flipped it open to a fresh page and started scribbling things down.

Adrian and Ben walked over to them with John. John crawled over to Ricky and pulled at his hand, trying to get a bite of the apple he was eating. Ricky picked off a small piece and handed it over to John. Amy reached into her basket and pulled out a bowl with fruit already cut up for him, and placed it on the blanket.

"So where's Jack," Adrian asked as she grabbed an apple from Grace's basket.

Grace shrugged. "He's supposed to be coming over here soon. One of his friends had a funeral this morning."

"Whoa, seriously," Adrian asked.

Grace nodded, and then shook her head at everyone's expressions. "He didn't get killed at school."

"Then what," Amy asked.

"He actually got into a car accident on his way home from the hospital. Died on impact."

"Wow," Adrian murmured. Her faze dropped to the ground.

Amy shook her head and covered her face with her hands. Ricky turned his attention to her and shook her shoulder lightly.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

He pulled at her hands, though she tried to wrench away from him. "Hey," he said more firmly. He pulled her hands down to reveal tears running down her face. Ricky shook his head and wiped away the tears on her face. "What's wrong?"

Amy looked down at the grass sniffling. "I don't understand why this is happening to everyone! I don't understand why all these people- _these kids!_ Our friends are dead, and everyone just wants to shrug it off and get over it, like it never happened!"

Ricky shook his head and hugged her. Grace stood and moved around the food and then kneeled beside Amy and hugged her as well.

"Maybe it seems like everyone else does, but we don't. We're all in this together," she said.

Ricky nodded, rubbing his hand up and down Amy's back as she pulled away from him. We were there with you, and we get it."

John crawled across Ricky's lap and into Amy's whimpering like that of a child who didn't want to see their parent upset. Amy hugged him tightly, shaking her head.

"I hate that someone almost killed _any_ of us. I hate that I almost missed out on every first my son will have. I hate that** you** almost never got the chance to see him grow up. It's not right," she cried.

"You're right," Adrian admitted. "It's **not** right that any of us almost died, or that either of you could've missed your son's life. But we're all still here."

"And I think we should do something about that," Grace interjected. She moved back over by her things and picked up the notebook she had been scribbling in. "I have an idea."

The other three of them looked up at her. "What?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped at the sight of Jack walking up behind Amy and Ricky. She waved him over. He nodded at her and walked around Amy and Ricky, and sat down near Grace.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I stopped home to change into something more comfortable."

Grace nodded and reached into her basket. She pulled out a sandwich in a baggie and motioned to the bowl of fruit.

"So what's this big great idea you have for all of us to be together," Adrian asked.

"What about if we did a memorial," she offered. "I mean I know that they're already talking about doing one but… I mean should we really let the teachers decide what to do about it? These are _our_ friends."

"Two teachers died too though," Ben mentioned.

Grace nodded. "So we give them a place in it as well. But there's this spot in the quad that I know they're talking about building something after they do whatever they're going to do with the school."

"So what do you want us to do," Ricky asked.

Grace shrugged. "I think we should all do something on our own and then somehow bring it all together. Or we could all come up with something together."

"You don't really know, do you," Adrian chuckled.

Grace blushed. "No, not really. But it's an option!"

Amy nodded. "I like that. I think it'd be good. For all of us."

Grace smiled cheerfully. "Me too."


	10. Heartland

**A/N: **I'm feeling generous, so I thought I'd update again this week. I only have one more chapter written (as I've been lazy the last few days and haven't gotten much done on chapter 12), so I probably won't update again as soon, but I will soon enough!

I still love this story very much and my renewed effort to start writing it again has made writing feel like pulling teeth. Alas, I am writing anyway! I hope it's not too horribly written (as I didn't really quit writing to begin with… I was distracted by a shiny boy, and then… erm…NCIS *ducks from tomatoes*, along with a terrible bout of writers block when it came to tslotat.)

Anyway, I've done my best to understand broken bones and gunshot wounds and all the medical things I've written about so far in this story, so I hope I'm doing justice to the injuries and the things I'm writing!

Also, in reference to funerals, I can say this: I've been to three - two catholic, and one that was just a basic service in a funeral home. The first I barely remember due to a panic attack in the middle of the service, and almost passed out. The second I really don't remember at all either (I took my GED tests the next week, so that's probably why :/) Honestly, what I remember my grandfather's funeral (the one that wasn't Catholic), is what I will be drawing from for this.

_Chapter 10_

_Heartland_

Amy yawned as she stepped out of the bathroom, holding her towel tightly around her body. She'd barely slept the night before, and she didn't have long before she'd have to get John up and dressed as well. She walked lazily towards her bedroom, dragging her feet as she padded down the hall. She pushed her bedroom door open slowly and crossed the room to her desk, here her dress hung next to it. She ran a hand down one of the seams and then walked over to her dresser and opened it up.

Ricky groaned as he awoke for the morning. He turned his head to look at her as she dropped her towel to the floor, slipping into her undergarments. He smirked at her.

Amy rolled her eyes, shaking her head she clasped her bra in front of herself, and then adjusted her straps. "You were supposed to stay asleep until I was dressed."

Ricky sat up and shrugged. "Sorry. I woke up when you left. Couldn't get back to sleep, I guess."

Amy nodded. She walked across the room and grabbed a pair of sweatpants lying over the chair in front of her desk. She pulled them on as best she could with one arm, and then grabbed a loose t-shirt from her closet and pulled that on as well.

"What time does the service start," Ricky asked as he wrapped his left arm under his leg and moved it over the side of the bed.

"At eleven," Amy murmured. She picked up her hairbrush off the desk and began running it through her hair, pulling out the knots. "I'm gonna get John up around ten."

Ricky nodded, using the nightstand to push himself up onto his good leg. "I'll be so happy when I can use one of these limbs," he murmured.

Amy turned around, pulling a hair tie onto her wrist so that she could have Ashley or her mom pull her hair back once she made it downstairs. She tipped her head to the side and nodded. "Yeah, I bet it's not all that easy."

Ricky nodded, staring almost hatefully down at his leg. "Two more weeks and then I can start physical therapy. I guess that's the plus side."

Amy crossed her good arm over her broken one. "I can't believe it's really been almost two weeks since that day. I mean I know you were in the hospital for a week, but it's just… It feels weird."

Ricky nodded again, hopping over to her desk. She walked over to him and slipped and arm under him, before they made their way over to the door to begin the obstacle descending the stairs.

"I can't imagine how crazy today is going to be, especially after yesterday," he murmured.

_Amy yawned as she settled in a chair next to Ricky__'s wheelchair. A large quantity of the student body had shown up to the joint funeral. It was crazy just trying to find a place to sit, and people were commiserating with each other in small circles, but the minute you tried to take a seat already reserved, five people chimed in to tell you it was their spot. _

_She ran a hand through her bangs and look around at all the people standing around near them. Most were chatting with other people, but a few circles were praying, and some outright arguing. She scoffed in disgust. _

"_Five people just brought guns into our school and killed 32 people. How can anyone think it's okay to be arguing at a time like this? Why would they __**want**__ to," she cried. _

_Ricky looked up at her and shook his head. He reached up and brush his thumb over her cheek. "Because they're stupid. Just try to ignore it." _

_Amy shook her head, running her hand down her dress. She looked around again, spotting teachers talking to each other. Most of the female teachers she spotted were crying, with their husbands and boyfriends, or with other teachers. _

_She crossed one knee over the other and rested her elbow on her knee, dropping her chin in the palm of her hand. Ricky brushed her bangs out of her face. "What're you thinking about?" _

_Amy looked up at him, shrugging. "How we've been to five funerals in the last week, and there's still more to come." _

"_Just today and then tomorrow," Ricky assured her. "You don't have to go if-" _

_Amy shook her head, cutting him off. "I can't __**not**__ go to my best friend's funeral. I've known Lauren since I was in kindergarten." _

_Before Ricky could say anything else, several teachers walked up to them. Amy recognized some of them. Mr. Sedlack stood in the middle of them, with a woman that Amy assumed was his daughter. She looked old enough to have graduated high school, but not college. Mr. Sedlack was a man in his late fourties, with graying hair and crystal blue eyes. He had a love for music that came across every time they were in practice. _

_Alongside him was a teacher that taught Calculus, and unlike Ricky, Amy abhorred math class, so she took basic algebra and geometry, while he excelled in Calc. one and two, as well as trigonometry. _

_The woman was a few inches taller than Amy, in her late twenties, and standing with her husband, who was a biology teacher. _

"_It's good to see you both here," Mr. Sedlack told them. _

_Ricky nodded, and Amy did as well. They both knew what he really meant was that he was glad to see they were both still alive. _

_The girl standing next to him furrowed her brow at Ricky. "You're the kid that got carried out of the school," she observed. _

_Ricky looked down at the ground, blushing slightly. "Yeah, but don't tell the reporters that. We've been trying to avoid them." _

"_Seem to be doing a good job of it," the calculus teacher told them. "I have yet to see any of the interviews all the newspapers and stations claim they're having with either of you." _

_Ricky chuckled. "I haven't talked to a single reporter. They tried to bug me in the hospital, but they never got past security, let alone the first floor." _

_The girl laughed, and it took everything within Amy to not roll her eyes in disgust. It was sick, how girls seemed to be willing to go to any lengths to get Ricky's attention. _

"_So are you guys going to be teaching at Van Nuys when we go back?" Ricky shifted in his chair, trying to ignore Mr. Sedlack's daughter. _

_The calculus teacher nodded. "We'll have classes in the afternoon. The freshman will have new teachers eventually… For now the Van Nuys will be teaching them." _

_There was a depressive feeling falling over the outdoor service as the conversation seemed to come to an end. Talking about teachers dying, guns in a school… It felt so taboo whenever they were around adults. Talking to their friends was easier, and they knew the reporters were more likely to exploit them than really listen. _

_Groups of conversation dragged on a while longer, until people split off and started taking their seats at the mention of services about to start. Rows of seats filled in front of them, and even more behind them. Roughly two hundred white chairs had been placed out on the grass, but while people were splitting off, it was clear that the quantity of mourners outweighed the chairs. Some people stood on either side of the rows of chairs. Others sat in the grass. Few groups brought blankets to sit on. _

_Adrian and Grace spotted Amy and Ricky as the last seats were filling in, and took the last two seats open - just next to Amy. Ben and Jack stood next to Ricky's wheelchair. Ricky reached his hand under the brace of Amy's sling, offering comfort as best he could. _

_A man who looked to be about sixty stood, dressed in a basic black suit, and walked to the front of the crowd. He wore square, wire-framed glasses over soft, chocolate brown eyes. His hair was a light grey, like that of clouds on a rain day. He smiled at the vast crowd. _

"_Today, we come together, to mourn the loss of two wonderful people. Friends, family, students and mentors alike, all had something in common. You knew these people." _

_Amy stared hard a the two caskets that were behind the man speaking. One was a steel baby blue, with no frills to it. The one that stood next to it was a dark mahogany stained wooden casket. She knew both of the teachers that lie in them. _

_Caitlyn Benoit was the freshman English teacher. She was fresh out of college and well liked among the students. Amy had excelled in her class, and she'd been more than willing to help her, in all the days she'd been forced to miss days before and after John was born. She was one of the few teachers who hadn't treated Amy like she was the plague after the whole school knew she was pregnant, and refusing to transfer. _

_She was also an only child, to rich parents, and engaged to be married in the fall. _

_Ryan Weatherly wasn't far off from her. He was a man in his early thirties, and taught freshman history. He hadn't been as welcoming to Amy after the school found out about John, but he was well liked among most students as well. He was also known to be arrogant and willing to test his students resolve on occasions. _

_He was married, with a three year old son, and 18 month old twin girls. Unlike Mrs. Benoit though, he and his wife weren't rich. They were working class. _

"_Neither of these two people really got the option to live a full life," the man spoke mournfully to them. "Caitlyn, or Kate, as her friends and family knew her, was one year out of college and set to marry in October. She was a daughter, a sister, and a friend to man._

_Ryan was a father to three, and a husband. He was a son, and a brother._

_Both of these people deserved more than the endings they received." _

_The man paused. Sniffles and sobs could be heard amongst the crowd. Amy squeezed Ricky's hand as best she could. _

"_Speaking on behalf of Caitlyn will be her fiancé, Anthony Thompson. Following that will be Valerie Weatherly, speaking on behalf of her husband, Ryan." _

Amy pushed her spoon around her cereal bowl, scooping and dropping pieces of her fruity pebbles now and again. She really wasn't all that hungry, nor did she feel up to eating on a day like this. Out of all the funerals she'd attended so far, this one was probably the worst.

George settled a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her and pulled the bowl of uneaten cereal out from under her spoon.

"C'mon Ames. You gotta eat something today. You've barely touched anything at all this week," he encouraged.

Amy shrugged, handing off her fork to her father. She reached up and grabbed the fork resting on the plate in front of her, and cut off a piece of egg for herself. She lifted it to her mouth and munched quietly on it while her father returned the other side of the kitchen, preparing a plate for Ricky.

"Are you sure you want to go," Ricky asked her again. "You don't have to-"

Amy glared up at him. "I said I'm going. Now _please_ stop asking me that."

"Okay," Ricky surrendered. He turned his attention to the plate George was settling on the table for him. He picked up a piece of bacon off of it and began to chew on it.

George settled his own plate on the table next to Amy, and walked over to the fridge. He removed something over a magnet and then walked back over to the table and sat down. He settled the piece of paper next to Amy's plate.

"That's the name of a therapist your mother and I found. He's willing to see you on Tuesday," he told her.

Ricky looked up at the both of them tentatively.

"I don't _want_ to go talk to anyone," Amy growled lowly at him.

George looked up at her. He was doing his very quite concerned for Amy, but his frustration was on the verge boiling over, and he was ready to yell at her for the way she was treating everyone so far.

"Look, Amy, do what you want. Go or don't go. Your mother and I think it might help. We're wiling to go with you if you want someone there with you. Or you can go alone if you'd like."

Amy clenched her jaw and shook her head, staring hard at the piece of paper next to her plate. "I'm fine."

"You're **not** _fine_," Ricky told her.

She looked up at him, surprised at him.

"You're not," he repeated. "None of us are. And I used to think talking to people wouldn't help anything either, but sometimes it does. Sometimes it helps just to have someone you can scream at, who won't scream back."

"I don't want to talk to anyone," she insisted. "I don't need to."

George nodded, chewing up a bite of his food. He brushed his napkin across his face. "Like I said, go or don't go. That's really your choice, Ames."

Amy huffed, and took several more bites out of her food before she pushed away from the table and walked away. She walked down the hall to the foyer and stomped up the stairs. Once she'd reached the top of them, she stepped in the bathroom and turned on the faucet. She ran the water for a few seconds and then cupped as much as she could before she splashed her face with cool water.

The door creaked behind her, and she looked up to see her mother standing there, holding John.

"What's up," Amy asked as she turned the water off.

Anne shrugged. Amy walked over to her, retrieving John as he opened and closed his hands at her. He rested his head on her shoulder.

"You sure you about going to this today," Anne asked her.

Amy groaned. "_Yes,_mom! I wish everyone would stop asking me that. I wish everyone would stop telling me to go talk to someone. This isn't something that's just going to disappear once the funerals are over!"

Anne nodded. "I know, Amy. But bottling up all your feelings won't help either. There's nothing wrong with needing to talk to someone about how you feel. It doesn't make you crazy."

"Really, mom? Because the whole school thought Ricky was when they found out that he was in therapy," Amy chided.

Anne shook her head. "That's not really fair though, is it? We see a dentist if we have a toothache. You go to the doctor if you're throwing up. You take your car in if it's making a funny noise, and no one ever has a problem with those appointments. Sometimes you need to check in with your feelings though too. If you don't like therapy, you don't have to go again, but at least give it a shot, Amy. Please."

Amy rolled her eyes and shook her head as her bottom lip trembled. "I want to rewind all this."

Anne hugged her lightly, and ruffled John's hair. "I know, Amy, but you can't. You're gonna have to go into it head on and ready to fight instead."

Amy sighed and blinked a few times to get the tears out of her eyes. "I hate that we're going back to school next week too."

"It's only a couple of hours a day," Anne reminded her gently. "The year will be over before you know it. And you'll be on easy duty at the nursery for a month or so until your arm heals."

Amy exhaled heavily and stepped past Anne as she moved aside. She crossed the hall into John and Robbie's room, and walked over to the changing table. She settled John there while she retrieved a diaper from under it. She set it aside and then laid John down as best she could so that she could change him.

Anne walked over to her with a pair of black jeans and a plain dark blue onesie. Amy fussed with John's pajama's and diaper before she got him cleaned up and then stepped aside so her mother could redress him properly.

"I feel like I'm helpless to do anything for him or Ricky," she said sadly.

Anne nodded as she slipped the onesie over John's head. "I'm sure that must hurt emotionally. Just keep reminding yourself that Ricky will be able to walk again soon. We were all lucky that the worst of his problems coming out of that school was blood loss."

Amy shuddered at the memory. Seeing all that blood on the floor just before they'd left the building was more than she ever had hoped to see. "I can't believe that that was the worst of it, after how many times he was shot."

Anne nodded. "You both were lucky."

"Luckier than most," Amy muttered under her breath.

For as little as she and Ashley were being granted access to see information on other victims in the shooting - victims who were shot by their fellow classmates - they had found out quite a bit. Of the dozen or so kids who were shot and survived, seven had broken bones. Three had some internal bleeding, and were still in the hospital. Two kids, boys on the school soccer team, had both been shot in the head and survived, but the prognosis wasn't good. One the doctors didn't expect to ever walk again. The other, as others were saying, would likely be in a vegetative state for the rest of his life.

"Why don't you go try and get changed into your dress as best you can," Anne told her. "I'll come in as soon as I get Robbie up, and get you zipped up."

"Okay," Amy said quietly. She walked over to her mom and picked up John once she'd gotten him dressed, and walked into her room with him. Once she was in there, she set him inside the pack and play, which she still kept next to her bed, and then walked over to her door and closed it. She began to remove her clothes and took a moment to examine the cut she'd gotten across her chest on the day of the shooting. It had pretty much healed up. There was a bit of scabbing here and there, but it was otherwise healed over, and scarring well.

She used her feet to pull at the legs of her pants and shimmied out of them. It took her about a minute, but she managed to get out of them. She kicked them over to the side of her bed and then walked over to her desk and reached up with her good arm to unzip her dress. She pulled it down and pulled it over her head. She slipped her injured arm into it first, and then her good arm.

Anne entered the room a few moments later and settled Robbie in the pack and play with John before she walked over to Amy and zipped up her dress for her. Amy turned around once she had and grabbed her brace off her desk, and offered it up to her mom. Anne took it from her, though she ran a hand down the outside of Amy's arm first.

"It looks like it's healing nice," she told her."

"You say that every day," Amy reminded her.

Anne just smiled at her and then placed the brace under Amy's arm before she wrapped the strap through and the sling and over the shoulder like it was supposed to be. She was right, though. The bruising on Amy's arm had faded away considerably, leaving only a few dark spots here and there. Most of it had faded to the yellowish shade, or was gone completely. There were stitches that needed to be removed, but she was otherwise healed up on the surface.

"Would you like me to do something with your hair," Anne asked her.

Amy shrugged. "I figured you could just put it up in a ponytail or something."

"Okay," Anne said. Amy extended her arm to her mother, revealing the hair tie she still had on her wrist. Anne took it from her and then grabbed Amy's hairbrush and began brushing her hair back behind her head. Amy quickly pulled her bangs from the hair pulled back, and brushed them aside.

Once Anne had her hair pulled up, Amy grabbed a barrette and clipped her bangs up to the side of her head. She looked up at her mom for approval.

"You look nice," Anne told her. "I'm sure your father has already woken up your sister. I'll just need to get changed and then I'll grab Robbie and we'll be downstairs too. Is Ricky going?"

Amy nodded. "He hates that dad's been helping him get dressed."

"Well even if you _could_ help him, I'm not sure your father and I would let you," her mother told her. "He'll be up a limb in a few weeks. Until then, he's just going to have to accept the help."

Amy nodded, picking John up out of the pack and play. "I don't think it's that he doesn't like dad so much as it's that he just doesn't trust men," she explained. "With his- with Bob…"

Anne nodded again. "That's understandable."

Amy looked down at John and smiled. "We're going to go downstairs. See you in a bit?"

Anne nodded.

_-  
Things are looking up, oh finally  
__I thought I'd never see the day when you'd smile at me  
- _

It had taken all Amy had in her to keep from falling apart as soon as they walked into the funeral home where Lauren's funeral was. Her stomach had turned into knots on the drive over and she had all but squeezed all the blood out of Ashley's hand by the time they arrived. Ricky, John, and George had taken her father's car while Anne had driven with Amy, Ashley, and Robbie.

She spotted Lauren's parents right after walking into the building and looked felt her knees shake. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to go talk to them, or run in the other direction. She looked over at Ashley, and could see the same dilemma playing on her face. Ashley had told her about how she hadn't been able to help Lauren that day in the school. She walked over to her and grabbed her hand. Ashley squeezed it lightly.

Together, they walked over to Lauren's parents. Dr. Fields nodded to the both of them. Jason hugged both of them. Amy stopped completely in front of Lauren's mother. She hugged Amy and Ashley as well.

"You should come by sometime this week," she said through tears. "You and Madison can have a few of her things, if you'd like. I'm sure she had some of your clothes at the very least."

Amy nodded slowly; her bottom lip trembling at the threat of more tears.

She and Ashley walked away from Lauren's parents. They stopped a few feet over from a crowd of students talking, and Amy hugged Ashley.

Ashley released her a moment later and muttered a thanks. Amy nodded, looking around at the people in the room. She didn't know most of them.

Ashley quickly backed away and Amy turned her attention to why. Madison was practically charging at her. Amy welcomed the hug that she received from her, and they cried into each others shoulders for several minutes.

"It didn't feel real before now," Madison sniffled, wiping away her tears.

Amy nodded, hiccupping as she brushed away some of her own tears. "I know. I keep waiting for my phone to ring, and it to be her."

Madison nodded as well. "Or for her to show up on my doorstep with movies and popcorn."

Amy laughed softly as more tears fell down her face. "She did like to do that a lot."

Madison's father walked over to them, quickly flanked by Amy's parents and Ricky, who had John sitting in his lap.

"The service is about to start, girls," Madison's said.

Amy slipped her arm through Madison's, and they all walked to the third row of chairs settled in the room. In front of them sat various members of Lauren's family, as well as her parents and brother. John reached out for Amy and she took him. Everyone else continued to take their seats, and within minutes, everyone was settled.

Lauren's dad stood a few minutes later, and nodded to all of them. He walked over to the podium that was set alongside the closed casket. He was dressed simply, in a black sweater and black dress pants.

"We'd like to thank all of you that were able to make it today. This is…"

He trailed off and gripped the sides of the podium, looking down at the floor.

Amy and Madison exchanged a look, and then both turned to look at Lauren's mom and brother. Her mom was on the edge of her seat, seemingly ready to jump up.

Dr. Fields looked up at all of them and shook his head. "Lets be honest: I can't mince words that will make this sound good. Dozens of **kids** died."

He paused again and raised a hand to his forehead, scratching it with the back of his thumb. "I'm sorry. I know a lot of you were there; some of you were even injured."

His vision drifted to Ricky. Ricky dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Lauren was a friend to everyone who met her. She strived to be great at everything she tried, and she hated to fail. She was funny, and she was ambitious. She dreamed about being in the Peace Corps when she graduated high school. She wanted a lot for her life. More than the instant gratification of a few kids with guns."

He stopped once more and shook his head as several tears ran down his face. "You know, the words I'm looking for really aren't displaying their affection to me at the moment. All I know all the things I'm never going to see or hear from my daughter again. So," he gripped the podium again, struggling to hold in a sob. "I'm going to leave this to the two people who knew Lauren best. Her best friends."

Amy whipped her head around to look at Madison. She knew nothing about this. No one had told her she would be speaking at Lauren's funeral, and truth be told, she wasn't quite sure she'd actually be able to do it. Her gaze drifted to her parents, whose faces were covered in confusion as to why they hadn't known about this sooner.

"I don't…I don't know if I can," Amy muttered quietly, turning her attention to Ricky. "I can't…"

He reached over and squeezed her hand. "You can."

Madison stood and offered her arm to Amy. "I'll talk if you want. Just stand with me?"

Amy looked up at her timidly. Her bottom lip trembled at the idea, but she nodded a moment later, and stood. Ricky took John from her, and she and Madison walked up to the podium. Once they were each standing on either side, Amy crossed her good arm over her broken arm, and let her gaze drift around different spots on the floor. The room was eerily silent.

"Lauren would love this," Madison laughed after a minute.

Amy looked up at her, surprised at the comment. She nodded a moment later though.

"Yeah, she would," she agreed. "For about five minutes. And then she'd tell everyone to move on to the next subject."

Madison nodded, smiling sadly. "She really drove for attention from people a lot, but as soon as she had it, she didn't want it anymore. I mean, we're just kids, and we wanted what everyone else wants-"

"To be popular," Amy murmured. "It sounds so stupid now."

Madison nodded again. "She was the kind of person who would give and give and give to achieve something, and then when she finally got it, she didn't care." She laughed quietly and then shook her head. "I remember last year we auditioned d up for the school play, and it was so funny, because I got to get up and try out before her. All these girls were there, and they were all arguing over who would do what song, and kept cutting each other in order of who would audition, so she kept getting pushed back. I said I'd wait for her, so anyway, these girls are all arguing with each other, and all of a sudden she whistles really loudly. The teachers hadn't been able to get them all to calm down so they thought it was funny. So, she finally gets her moment to audition, and she looked at me and said 'let's blow this. I've never seen something so ridiculous'. And so we left."

The people in the rows in front of them laughed. Amy and Madison shared a look. The ache of a missing piece was there, and tears flooded Amy's eyes.

"Lauren deserved better than this. She was the kind of person who would tell you off for the things you were doing wrong, and then still be there to forgive you when you realized she was right. She really was a good person. She didn't deserve this."

She nodded at Madison's words, and looked back at the casket behind her. She crossed her arms tighter.

"I don't know how to say goodbye, and I absolutely refuse to," Amy murmured. Everyone turned their attention to her. She ran her hand over her clipped-down bangs. "It's not right. Wherever she is now, I'll see her again one day, and goodbye feels too final, so I'll go with see you later."

She turned around and looked at the casket again. "See you later, Lauren."

Madison slipped her arm through Amy's, and rested her chin on her shoulder. "See you, Lo."

They both looked over at Lauren's parents, who both nodded to them. Dr. Fields mouthed a thank you to them, and they both walked over to their seats as a song started to play on the speakers.

"_you escape like a runaway train  
__off the tracks and down again  
__my heart's beating like a steam boat  
__tugging all your burdens  
__on my shoulders_

_in the mourning, I'll rise  
__in the morning, I'll let you die  
__in the mourning, all my worry  
__  
now there's nothing but time that's wasted  
__and words that have no backbone  
__oh the whole world  
__seems to be waiting  
__can you hear the echoes fading_

_in the mourning, I'll rise  
__in the mourning, I'll let you die  
__in the mourning, all my sorrys…"_

People began to stand and file down into a row to pass by the casket. Amy shook her head as her parents offered up the option, and instead accepted a hug from both of them. Ashley hugged her as well. She turned to Ricky, who was pulling repetitively on her hand. Ashley took John from him, and he pulled Amy down into his lap.

"I don't want to hurt you," she cried.

He shook his head at her and wrapped his arm around her in a hug. She slipped her arm under his and sobbed quietly into his shoulder.

She didn't know how long she sat there, but it had to have been more than ten minutes, because when she finally managed to start pulling herself together, the room had emptied out pretty far. There were only a few people left straggling in the room besides Amy's family, Madison and her dad, and Lauren's parents and brother.

Dr. Fields and Lauren's mother walked over to them. Amy and Ricky looked up at them.

"Those were nice things you girls said," Dr. Fields told them. He smiled at both Amy and Madison as best he could. They both nodded at him.

"We'll be having a cookout at our place after this. You're all more than welcome," her mother offered.

"I really just want to go home right now," Amy murmured to them. "I'm sorry." She rested her head wearily on Ricky's shoulder, and he ran his hand up and down comfortingly on her back.

Both Lauren's parents nodded.

"We're going to go get in the car, Amy," Anne told Amy. Amy nodded to them and then turned her attention back to Ricky. When she turned back around, Lauren's mother had walked away, but Dr. Fields had squatted down on the side of Ricky's chair.

"I'll see you this week," he asked Ricky.

Ricky nodded. "Every day," he muttered. "Mom's orders."

Dr. Fields nodded. "You doing okay?"

Ricky nodded again. "Just need some sleep."

"Alright." He stood up straight and nodded to the both of them before exiting the room.

Amy sighed heavily and lifted her head up off of Ricky's shoulder. "Therapy every day?"

Ricky nodded again. "My mother thinks I'm going to crack 'any day now'. She wants me to talk to him so that I at least keep myself in check if I do."

"Can I go with you one day," Amy asked tentatively.

Ricky turned to look at her. "You want to?"

She nodded slowly. "My parents want me to talk to someone…Maybe it will help. I don't know."

Ricky shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe it will. They're all morning appointments because of going back to school. But yeah, you can come with me. Hell, you can come all week if you want."

Amy shook her head. "I don't want to take over your time. You _should_ talk about what happened that day, even if it's just to him. I'm sure it's affected you in some way."

Ricky shook his head and smiled at her. "I'm great."

"Liar," Amy simpered. "You said that last time and then almost crashed your car."

"It happened," Ricky said quietly. "I can't change it. I can't change what he's done to me. I hate it, but I can't. I'd rather just forget, so I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Okay," Amy replied. "Just know I'm here to listen if you ever do want to talk about it."

Ricky gave a small smile. "I know."


	11. I Don't Know How I Feel

**A/N:** So, you guys know when (a)I have internet regularly and (b) when I have stuff written, I tend to update once a week. Chapter 12 is about half way done, so I feel comfortable posting this.

That said… I love all of you. You're amazing, and I can't tell you how many people I've come across on different forums that tell me they love the story. It's a little daunting when people know that **you** are the one writing the story. So… With the dozens of you who have favourited or alerted this story, (and I really hate doing this…), I don't feel like it's asking too much to get a review. I like knowing what you think about what I'm writing. It's nice to know what you think. After all, after going through months of writers block, I forced myself to revive this baby, because of PMs and reviews asking for updates. I still have a lot of love for it, and its very much still my baby, so I'd love for you to meet me in the middle.

Anyway… Onwards!

_Chapter 11_

_I Don't Know How I Feel_

Amy shoved her books off her bed, huffing at the annoyance of having to do thirty pages of reading before Monday morning. Her mother had gone to the district building after Lauren's funeral to pick up books for Amy, Ashley and Ricky. Along with the books had come a stack of reading for every student to complete in the classes on their first day back.

Ricky rolled back from her desk and looked over at her.

"If you're so frustrated, why not do the reading tomorrow morning?"

Amy shook her head, picking up her computer off the nightstand. "I just think it's ridiculous that we have to do any school work to begin with. I don't even remember what we were studying that day!"

Ricky chuckled, flipping a page over in his own textbook. "That's because you hit your head and then were thrown out of school _literally_. I'm sure we won't see much homework for a few days, if any at all. And I'm sorry I can't do more to help right now, but…" he shrugged, waving his hand at the metal bar that was the armrest of the wheelchair.

Amy nodded, looking up from her computer screen. "I know."

Ricky turned back to the textbook and read a bit longer, before he closed it and pushed it aside.

"I want to talk to you about something."

Amy looked up from her laptop again. "Okay. What?"

Ricky dropped their eye contact. "I want to go home tonight."

Amy furrowed her brow at him, shaking her head. "What? Why?"

Ricky wheeled himself over to the bed and used his good arm and leg to push himself up onto it.

"It's not you. I just…I'm suffocating around all these people, _and_ I need to get more clothes. If I'm going to be stuck here for two more weeks, I need to have something other than shorts and t-shirts. Plus I have stitches coming out in the morning, and then Dr. Fields. I just want to get a few hours to myself and get some things packed up so that I can come back here tomorrow when we're done with school."

Amy frowned. "But how will you even get up the stairs?"

Ricky laughed, knowing that the comment had everything to do with her not wanting him to leave. "I had a broken left leg, sprained right ankle, and bruises over 80 percent of my body when I was eight. I've managed worse."

Amy's face fell completely, and tears filled her eyes. Ricky shook his head, dropping his smile as well.

"Oh, oh no, Amy. I didn't mean it like that," he insisted.

She shook her head, covering her eyes with her hand. "I'm an idiot. I just…You being alone right now scares me."

Ricky settled on the bed and reached up to wipe the tears off her face. "Bob is in jail. Three of the four guys with guns are dead, and that Joe kid is in jail too. Nothing is going to happen to me in twelve hours."

Amy pursed her lips at him. "Can you actually drive with a broken leg?"

Ricky nodded. "It'll all be fine. I'll see you at noon tomorrow. Are you going back to work?"

Amy shrugged. "My parents want me to take a few more days before I go back. The church told me to come back when I'm ready."

"Okay then. I'm out of work _at least_ until I can stand, and then Bunny said maybe I can do some sort of restricted work. Leo said that I don't have to worry about the apartment."

"How are you going to manage your bills?" Amy's jaw dropped with surprise.

Ricky's jaw twitched, and he shrugged. "He wants me to let him cover the bills for the next month or so. I still haven't decided how I feel about that."

Amy shook her head at him. "You should just let him help you out for the time being. You can't even walk right now."

Ricky nodded slowly. "Yeah, and I'm stuck in therapy for two hours, five days a week. God only knows how long that's going to last."

Amy lifted her computer up and placed it on the nightstand, though she left it open. She scooted forward towards Ricky, placing her legs on either side of him. He looked up at her with resistance in his eyes. Her expression changed. She'd never seen him like this before.

"You… I've never…Ricky?" She brushed her hand across his cheek, furrowing her brow in confusion at the glazed look in his eyes.

He shook his head a moment later and looked back up at her. "Sorry, what's up?"

Amy ran her thumb over his bottom lip. "What's up is maybe you _do_ need to talk to someone. You've never been like this before. I've never seen you like this. So…I don't know, afraid?"

Ricky shook his head, giving her a look that seemed to come from disgust. "I am _not _afraid."

Amy shook her head at him again. "You **don't **have to _lie_ to me. Maybe being afraid is better. It says something about how all of this has affected you."

Ricky forced a laugh out. "And how's that?"

Amy rolled her shoulder. "That you're actually dealing with it? That someone hurt you and you feel it?"

"Because I didn't feel it before," he asked, annoyed.

Amy shook her head at him. "No, that's not what I meant. I just… I'm sorry."

Ricky huffed and shook his head, pulling her hand down off his face. "Don't be. I'm the idiot-"

"You're **not** an idiot," Amy growled, dismissing his comment. She leaned forward and kissed him quickly. "So are you going to go?"

Ricky nodded, setting his jaw. "I promise I'll see you in the morning. We can meet up at 11 if you want and have a late brunch before class. At least we'll have a study hall together."

Amy nodded, and smiled a little. "Okay. I'm still going to take John to the nursery as soon as I'm up and ready to go. Maybe then I can actually get my reading for school done."

Ricky nodded as well. "Alright." He pushed up on the bed a little and kissed her once more. "I'll see you later."

_-  
Everything rides on hope now  
__Everything rides on faith somehow  
- _

Ricky pushed himself up off his wheelchair and sighed heavily as he dropped onto the leather couch of Dr. Fields office. He brushed his hand down his jeans, over the cast, and then ran it through his hair. Dr. Fields folded down the wheelchair and placed it next to the end of the couch before he walked over to his chair and sat down. He picked up Ricky's folder off the table next to it and opened it up. He flipped it over and then settled it on the chair and walked over to his desk, filling a clear plastic cup with water. He walked back over to the couch and placed it onto the end table nearest to Ricky before he walked back over to his chair again and sat down.

"You sleep okay last night," he asked.

Ricky shrugged, fussing with his sling. "Laid awake for a while. I kept having flashbacks. I haven't had those since…"

He trailed off and shook his head, looking down at the floor.

"Since when, " Dr. Fields asked. He picked up his coffee cup and took a long drink from it, though he never took his attention off of Ricky.

Ricky shook his head and looked around the room, as he often did when he didn't want to discuss something. He chewed on his tongue, and continued to pick at the Velcro on his sling.

"Alright," Dr. Fields surrendered, giving the notion that he was conceding in receiving an answer for the moment. "How're you feeling about going back to school today?"

Ricky took a deep breath and kept his vision averted to other things. His eyes flitted around the room at pictures of quotes, and the various bookcases. "I don't know. Mixed I guess."

Dr. Fields nodded. "And what kind of mixed feelings might those be?"

Ricky looked up at him and shrugged again. "Nervous. Frustrated. Annoyed."

Dr. Fields nodded as well. "Nervous about what?"

Ricky looked down at his hands, picking at the nonexistent dirt under his nails. "Bob somehow escaping from jail. Someone else having the bright idea of bringing a gun to school. Annoyed that we had homework to do last night when we haven't been in school for two weeks. Amy had a little to d with the last one, I guess."

"How so?"

Ricky shrugged. He picked up his glass of water and sipped from it. "She was talking about how she doesn't remember what she was studying before the shooting, and to be honest, neither do I. I don't remember a lot about that day and the days leading up to it. And I really don't understand either why we had to do all this reading for these classes. It's not like I remember what we were studying."

"That reason alone was probably why," Dr. Fields suggested. He shifted forward in his char. "You don't need to immerse yourself into throwing yourself into your school work right now anyway. You've got shortened days, and you're recovering from some major wounds."

"No," Ricky growled lowly. "Instead I'm stuck here Monday through Friday talking about my so-called father."

"Would you rather discuss something else," Dr. Fields asked him seriously.

Ricky rolled his eyes at the older man. "Like what?"

Dr. Fields shrugged. "I don't know. That's really up to you."

Ricky forced a laugh. "My parents insurance isn't paying you to talk to me about the weather."

Dr. Fields stared at Ricky for a long moment. "You're showing up here, Ricky, and that says something. It says you're acknowledging that something is wrong. I fully understand that you were just once again thrown under the bus, and for all the hell you've been through in the last few weeks, I don't blame you for rebelling against everything. If you don't want to talk about Bob, we don't have to."

Ricky huffed and shook his head, looking down at the floor. "My mother showed up at the hospital too. I'm not quite sure things can get much worse at this point."

Dr. Fields nodded. "I know."

The room was silent for a few minutes, and Ricky resumed picking at his cuticles while he tried to calm himself down. He took another deep breath before he looked up again.

"It's been a year. Since I had a flashback, I mean. Since…that night," he muttered. His vision still danced across the room, never staying on anything too long, and never _ever_ looking at Lauren's dad.

Dr. Fields marked a note in the chart; something Ricky was absolutely _sure_ his parents would know about eventually. "What brought it on," he asked as he scrawled.

Ricky shrugged, looking down at his hands. "Nothing. I-I don't know. Amy moved on her bed and I guess I read her body language wrong, cause the next thing I knew, I was remembering being five, and watching Bob throw Nora out of the apartment so that…y'know."

"Holding back from saying what actually happened out loud is where your fear thrives," Dr. Fields told him politely. "So that what?"

Ricky glared up at him. "So that my father could beat me and then rape me. There. Is that what you wanted to hear!"

Dr. Fields shook his head. "Your anger's justified, Ricky. You're right to feel it, but not against people who don't deserve it. Right now, you're in a safe place to express that anger."

"I'm not _mad_ at anyone," Ricky whined. "I just **hate** him. And…"

Dr. Fields scooted forward on his chair and settled Ricky's file on the table next to him. "And what?"

Ricky took another drink from his water and rubbed his eyes. "And, back before all of this happened… Amy and I were talking. We were talking about a lot of stuff with our relationship."

"Do you feel up to sharing what those things were," Dr. Fields asked.

Ricky looked up at him. "It was a lot of stuff. We talked about getting married, about whether or not we wanted more kids… We were talking about waiting until John's birthday and then moving in together. I'd hoped Bob would be back in jail by then. And… we were talking about having sex."

"You're going to have to elaborate; I'm not sure where you're going with this," he said.

Ricky shrugged. "I don't know. I guess… I didn't want sex the second time around with Amy to be like the first. Y'know, all about getting what I need to sustain myself, and then disappearing. I wanted it to be different."

Dr. Fields nodded. He smiled a little. "Do you remember the day you came to therapy with Ms. Lee? How she said she wished you would stay longer, but you always wanted to leave right after sex?"

Ricky nodded. "Yeah. What about it?"

"And I told her I knew why you didn't want to stay? Do you remember when you first told me why you leave?"

Ricky looked down at the floor for a moment, trying to recall the conversation at hand, and trace his memory's footsteps from there. He nodded a few minutes later and looked back up at Dr Fields.

"Yeah. I was 13, and I said it was because it reminded me of what Bob did to me, and how all I wanted to do once it was over, was get as far away as I could…but I couldn't."

Dr. Fields nodded. "But you never said why. Never, in the last three years."

Ricky shrugged, keeping their eye contact. "I figured it wasn't that hard to figure out. He wouldn't let me leave, and he wouldn't leave my room. It was worse when he locked Nora out without her keys, and brought friends over."

Dr. Fields nodded again. "And you feel that lying next to someone after sexually gratifying yourself is a trapping you?"

"I don't know, I- I guess? I just… all I can think about once its over, is getting as far away from them as possible. It makes my skin crawl at the idea of actually curling up with someone and…I don't know."

Ricky had resumed keeping his attention all over the room, instead of on Dr. Fields or in any other single spot.

"You know," Dr Fields interjected. "There are two sides to how a person can react when they're sexually abused. Some people fight back. Others shut down. The same is true for people _after_ they've been through that. Some fight, while others just plain shut down. It seems to me, in your own way, these last few years you've been fighting. Maybe not physically, but internally. And _**now**_, the internalization of everything you've been through is instead causing you to shut down."

"Great," Ricky muttered. "So I'm going to be a sexual dunce for the rest of my life."

Dr. Fields forced a laugh and shook his head. "That's highly unlikely. You know as well as I, that just because a person has been abused doesn't mean that their sex drive shuts down. The difference is, **now** you need to decide if it really is the right situation. More than that, you need to be with someone who is aware of why you may or may not react to the present situation, and can keep you in that moment, instead of slipping into something else. Make sense?"

Ricky shrugged. "I guess."

_-  
Gonna leave a mark, I'm gonna set a spark  
__I'm coming up off the ground, I won't be looking down  
- _

Amy looked around the halls of the unfamiliar high school with confusion. Along with new textbooks, everyone had received new day planners (which were cheap store-bought ones, rather than school bought), and maps to the school. They were all also sharing lockers with the Van Nuys students, which was creating a very tight space for everyone. They were lucky to not be sharing the lockers at the same time of day, but that didn't do anything to abate Amy's annoyance.

She stuffed her books that she wouldn't need until the next day into the locker and then closed it. Her locker-mate had conveniently put up two plastic index-card holders with each of their names on them. The one closer to the top held Amy's name, alerting her that her half of the locker was the top. She shared it with someone named Ryenne. With any luck, whoever Ricky was sharing a locker with would be willing to switch with one of them and so that they could share a locker instead. Amy wasn't too sure either of them would be comfortable with other people looking at their son every day while they went through their mid-morning activities.

Madison walked up to her and offered to take her books from her. Amy happily obliged, and followed her outside, where they sat down on a stone bench.

"I thought you and Ricky were going to meet for lunch for brunch before school," she asked.

Amy shrugged. "He called and said Mr. Fields was going to bring him over I guess they had a lot to talk about."

Madison nodded, looking around. Amy stared down at the grass, blowing lightly in the breeze.

"We'd be pressing Lauren for information if she were here," she said quietly. "She wouldn't know anything, of course, because Dr. Fields would never do that to Ricky, but we- well at least _I _would, anyway."

Madison nodded slowly. "And then later I'd keep pressing her for information anyway, just because I'd be curious, even though we both knew she knew as much as we did…or at least until Ricky told you."

Amy shook her head, looking up at Madison. She was dressed simply in a black summer top with a see-through shawl over it, and dark blue skinny jeans, with black ballet flats. Her hair was pulled back simply into a ponytail. It made Amy feel a little under dressed.

She'd gone with her basic favourite: a dress with black leggings. Today, she'd settled on a navy blue teacup dress, with thick two-inch thick shoulder straps, and a charcoal cardigan. It had been something easy to slip into, and felt comfortable.

"You think it'll ever stop feeling like this," Madison murmured. She looked tentatively up at Amy.

"Ye-yeah," Amy replied just as tentatively. And then she said it more firmly. "Yeah. Eventually."

Madison looked back around at the grounds. Plenty of kids were arriving and chatting, as if nothing had changed. Others were acting completely opposite, like there was no way to go back to old cliques again. A lot of girls were split between hanging with their old groups, and making new friends.

Grace approached them, quickly flanked by Ben and Adrian, as well as Jack. She carried a tray of coffee cups. She extended the tray as they reached Madison and Amy.

"I know it's not really morning for that much longer, but I figured maybe we could all use a first-day-back perk-up," she said cheerfully.

Amy stared at her for a long moment, almost appalled. She and Madison had been discussing something serious, and she had walked up like nothing had ever changed. Her eyes began to narrow, ready to go off on Grace but-

She watched as Grace blinked, and for half a second, she could see it - the depression that was festering underneath. The shadows covered with makeup, that told of sleepless nights, waking up from nightmares making her relive that day. Track marks in her make up where she'd already cried that morning, probably out of fear about going back to school at all.

She reached out and grasped a cup from the tray, and thanked Grace silently. Madison did the same and thanked her as well. Once the tray was empty, Grace pulled the last two remaining out, and tossed the tray in the wastebasket.

"Where's Ricky," she asked curiously.

"He'll be around soon," Amy said, nodding. "I can take it for him and bring it to study hall for him. We have that first, since we can't really do orchestra anymore."

Grace nodded as well. She started to reach out to Amy, to hand her the coffee, but instead squatted slightly, and slipped it into the drink holder in Amy's bag, and made sure the steam cap was in place, so that the liquid didn't splash out.

"At least they're short days," Grace continued. "Better than going to school from sunup to sundown."

Adrian laughed. "Don't get used to it. I'm sure next fall, things will be back in full swing, and we'll be back to devoting almost nine hours a day to this thing they call learning."

"I don't know," Amy teased lightly. "I was thinking of dropping out and becoming a leper. At least no one would want to come near me then."

They all chuckled, save for Madison, who actually seemed rather annoyed that they were so cheerful.

"Is something wrong, Mad," Amy asked. She rested a hand on her best friend's shoulder.

"Yeah," Madison barked at her. "There is. I don't understand how you can all joke like someone didn't just kill **our** best friend! Like we didn't just _bury_ her!"

Amy's face went ashen, and her stomach dropped to her feet. Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head. She looked momentarily over at everyone else and then back at Madison before she turned and walked away, back into the school.

"No one is okay," Ben said, stepping around Grace. "We're **all** thinking about the fact that so many people died that day. That someone with this group is actually dead. It sucks. It really does. But you can't dwell on that. And we're all suffering for it. I'm nagging my housekeepers and cooks because I don't want to be alone at all. Hell, I'm sleeping on my dad's bedroom floor."

Madison almost smiled. "Me too."

"I'm at the church from the time I wake up, until my dad comes home," Jack assured her. "Always with someone or helping out with something. And when we get home at night, I check all the doors and windows, and then make our eighty pound chocolate lab sleep in my bed with me."

"And I'm almost always over at Amy's," Adrian added. "Usually with Ashley or somewhere else, so I'm not alone. I sleep in my parent's room on their floor too, away from the windows and out of sight from the door."

Grace nodded, looking down at the ground. "And I'm barely sleeping at all. I went and saw a therapist, who put me on antidepressants and a sleep aid. Even so, I'm still only getting three or four hours of sleep. I'm starting to think maybe I should sleep in my mom's room too."

"Sorry," Madison murmured to them. "I didn't know."

"Looks can be deceiving," Grace told her. "Amy told me on the phone last night that she always keeps her window blinds closed, and she got blackout curtains to cover the outside of them at night, so they can't be seen through, because she and Ricky are afraid of Bob getting out of jail. They both aren't sleeping well, and having nightmares. Everyone is suffering."

Adrian, Ben, and Jack nodded in agreement.

Grace crossed her arms over the textbook she was holding against her chest. "It's why I've decided that we should all make an effort to do two things this year: make a friend with the person with whom we share lockers with. I think we should all also make a friend with someone we go to school with, but don't already know. Or maybe someone we've considered an enemy."

"You're nuts," Adrian muttered from behind her. Grace spun around to look at her.

"Am I really? Is this _really_ that crazy of an idea? It's hate and bullying that breeds these situations, Adrian. We say that this has affected us all, but really how much as it? Is it enough for us to make a change? Is it enough for us to open up our hearts and our eyes and give someone who we said wasn't worth it, a second chance? Or a first chance? Isn't that enough?"

Adrian shrugged. "I guess you're right."

"I'm not saying become best friends with Zoe," Grace said, pressing on. "But, I don't know. Try talking to the girl. Neither of you is with Ricky these days anyway. Apologize. Make a good-faithed effort to show that you want to at least be civil to each other. If you really don't want to do that, then…I don't know, invite one of the foreign exchange students to coffee before school. Just show you care."

"Alright, alright," Adrian yelled slightly. "I get what you're saying. And I'll try."

"Me too," Ben said, nodding.

Jack nodded as well. "You can count me in, too."

"And me," Madison told her. "I'm sure Amy will do it too. "

"Great," Grace smiled cheerfully. "We all need friends, you guys. This is a great way to show people that we're not stuck up like I **know** they think we are. Give most of them half a chance, and we'll have new friends in no time."

"Alright, enough with the pep-talk," Adrian insisted as she stared down at her watch. "We're supposed to be starting our first classes in fifteen minutes, and I have no idea where mine is."

Grace looked over at her schedule and then back at her own. "We have science together still. I guess we'd better go find it."

Adrian slipped her arm through Grace's and they walked off towards the double doors. Ben and Jack exchanged an awkward look and then turned and walked behind them, heading to their own respective classes.

Madison walked into the school, and saw Amy standing by her locker. She walked over to her and placed a light hand on her shoulder. Amy looked up from the note in her hand, and folded it closed as she realized it was Madison.

"What's up?"

Madison shrugged. "Just came to apologize. I didn't mean to snap at you. I didn't know…"

"You should have," Amy told her honestly.

"I know," Madison agreed. "I just… I don't want you to be mad at me. You're all I've got left, now that…y'know."

Amy nodded. "And I just talked to Grace before you came in. She told me about the plan to make new friends, and I agree. We _should_ reach out to people we decided we hated. Who knows, maybe the reason we hated each other in the first place won't matter anymore. And my locker mate already left me a note, so…" She shrugged. She smiled slightly at Madison and hugged her.

"We'll always be friends, Madison. And I'm always here for you. But maybe it'll help if we both find someone else to confide in. Someone who doesn't have to pick sides. Heck, we might even enjoy it."

Madison laughed softly. "Maybe. But you'll always be my first."

"And mine too," Amy agreed. "Anyway, I should get to class… I have no idea where it is, but I guess this map will show me. I'll see you later?"

Madison nodded. "See you later."

They both set off in different directions, and within a matter of a minute, as more students filed in and examined their own maps before setting off on confused paths. For a few minutes, every few seconds, a person would come running down one hall, into another. But within five minutes, all doors had been shut, everyone was settled into their seats, and even Ricky was settled at a table with Amy in study hall, down in the cafeteria.


	12. Where Nothing Hurts And Nothing Bleeds

**A/N:** So, clearly, I am still avidly writing this story. Honestly, there's a part of me right now that has to figure out everyone's endgame (not saying its ending any time soon though!), I just need to figure out, at the end of the story, where everyone is going to be. I also need to figure out if certain parts will fit together well enough to drive the story in the direction I want it to go.

In the meantime, I give you this:

_Chapter 12_

_Where Nothing Hurts And Nothing Bleeds_

Amy settled into a chair next to Ricky and settled her books in front of her. For some weird reason, they were starting the week with their fifth, sixth, and seventh classes of the day instead of the first four. It had more to do with keeping the Van Nuys students on a regular schedule than anything else.

Ricky looked up at her after scribbling a few things into his notebook. "How'd your morning go?"

Amy shrugged, staring at the folded letter she still held in her hands. "Fine, I guess. I finished my reading before I fell asleep last night. Yours?"

Ricky shrugged as well. "Not that easy. Took a while to fall asleep and then when I did, it was restless."

"I'm sorry," Amy murmured. She still had her attention focused more on the letter in her hands than anything else.

"What is that," Ricky finally asked.

Amy shrugged again. "My new locker mate left it for me. It basically just says hi, nice to meet you, I hope we can meet in person and be friends," she told him.

Ricky nodded slowly. "You want to meet the person you're sharing a locker with?"

Amy rolled her shoulder, and pursed her slips slightly, rolling her eyes. "Doesn't really matter to me. Grace had this idea though, that we should all try to at least make friends with them, and to befriend someone from our own school."

Ricky gave her a slightly surprised look, pretending that he was writing something on his notebook as a teacher passed by them. Amy opened a notebook as well, and uncapped a pen, like she had work to do as well.

"I'm all for trying to be nicer to kids at Grant, but if the person I share a locker with is a slob, I'm not making some major effort," he said quietly.

Amy smirked and chuckled a little. "Hey, some of the coolest people can have dirty lockers."

Ricky nodded. "So can some of the craziest. If your locker is a mess, then that speaks to how much chaos is in your life, if you ask me."

Amy furrowed her brow at him. "Your locker is always spotless. You just don't want to be friends with someone who doesn't clean up after themselves."

Ricky shrugged, smiling at her. "Yeah, I guess."

"Hey Amy. Ricky."

They both looked up, and saw a girl roughly the same height as Amy, standing in front of them. Her hair was a very light blond, and her chocolate brown eyes bore into both of them as she held a memo pad over a textbook, and a pen.

"Hey, Valerie," Amy spoke back politely. "What's up?"

Valerie Denison wasn't exactly someone who ran within the same crowd with Ricky and Amy. She was friends with the artsy kids, and was in just about every club in school. She was also one of the senior editors on the school newspaper, and the school yearbook.

"Well, even though we're here at Van Nuys for the time being, the school wants to keep everything separate as far as clubs and whatnot, and I noticed that you two hadn't given an interview yet about the shooting, so I was wondering…"

Amy looked over at Ricky, who, in mere seconds, looked absolutely annoyed at the prospect.

"It wouldn't be anything too personal," Valerie insisted quickly. "Just a few questions on what that day was like for you, how it effected you… Stuff like that."

Ricky's demeanor didn't change. Amy took a heavy breath and looked back up at Valerie. "Can we think about it?"

She nodded, though there was an apprehension behind it. "I'll need an answer soon though; like by tomorrow, if you can manage that."

Amy nodded as well. "Thanks."

Valerie spun on her heels and walked out of the cafeteria. Amy turned her attention back to Ricky again.

"We've been turning away reporters for two weeks," she informed him. Do you really want to continue doing it?"

Ricky shrugged at her, writing aimlessly in his notebook as to not attract attention to them. "I have no interest in talking to anyone who has anything to do with the media."

Amy nodded haphazardly and shrugged. "Well I hate to tell you, but until we do, they're never going to leave us alone; you more than me. Everyone wants to know the kid who was carried out of school looking dead."

Ricky leaned across the table, looking frustrated. "I don't _want_ people knowing who I am, or where I've been and what I've done. I've lived enough of my life with people knowing more than I'd have liked them to. Right now I just don't want anything to do with people who want to exploit what we've all been through."

Amy raised her eyebrows slightly. "Tenth graders are going to exploit us?"

Ricky rolled his eyes. "Okay, maybe not kids we go to school with, but-"

"But people are going to keep asking until we talk to someone. So why not do it with people we know? At least then we can say we've said our piece."

Ricky dropped his pen and reached out to grab the coffee that Amy had brought in for him. He took a long drink from it, still not taking his gaze off of Amy.

"I'm not doing anything that means giving some super exclusive interview. Not now," he insisted.

Amy smiled and brushed her hand up across his cheek. "Okay."

_-  
I close my eyes and I can see a better day  
__I close my eyes and pray…  
- _

Amy flipped her biology textbook shut and looked up at Ricky from the table. He was currently sitting on the floor with John, playing with a set of blocks that Amy had set out once they'd gotten to the apartment. Contrary to what they had hoped, she had ended up with homework on her first day back. It was simple note-taking, but it still frustrated her to no end.

She pushed back from the table and walked over to where Ricky and John where seated, and sat down between them. John passed her a block and she chuckled, settling it on a tower that Ricky was building with them.

"You get all your homework done," he asked.

Amy nodded, continuing to accept blocks from John as he passed them to her. "It was just some notes and a few questions in the book."

Ricky started picking up some of the blocks that he had built into a tower and placed them into the bucket that Amy had gotten them out from. "So when's this interview we're supposed to have with Val?"

"She said she'd give me a call," Amy said. "She wasn't quite sure when she'd get around to it. Might be sometime during one of the next few mornings to come. It all depends."

"On what," Ricky asked, annoyed.

"On schedules," she said simply. "Besides, we don't have to be school until one tomorrow."

Ricky nodded. "You still coming with me to my appointment?"

Amy nodded as well, tossing some of the blocks into the bucket as well. "I figured we could take John over to the nursery around eight or nine, and then go over there."

"Sounds good," Ricky agreed.

They continued to pick up the blocks until all but a few were put away, and then Ricky called out for take-out, while Amy got John changed into pajamas and then settled him into his highchair, with a bib wrapped around him so that he didn't get food all of himself. She went to work feeding him food from a jar, and then warmed up a bottle for him as well.

By the time dinner showed up, she had just put him down in the pack and play, and set out plates for Ricky and herself. He was hopping around on one leg as he poured out Chinese food onto plates for them. Amy stopped long enough to take a phone call, before she joined him back at the table as he finished piling food onto his plate.

"Who was that," he asked.

"First call was my mom," she answered, spooning white rice onto her plate. "I told her John and I would be spending the night. And then Valerie called. She asked if we could meet after classes tomorrow. I said yeah."

"All three of us," Ricky asked.

Amy nodded, settling the rice carton back on the table. She looked up at him. "That's okay, right?"

Ricky nodded. He gave a small smile. "It is. I just…I don't want some big interview. Other people were shot that day too. I wasn't even shot by anyone that was actually involved with the _real_ shooting."

Amy shook her head. "Only because I threw my arm over your head. Joe tried to shoot you too."

Ricky shrugged, chewing on a piece of orange chicken. "I don't remember."

_-  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired  
__I know right now you don't care  
- _

Grace looked up at Adrian as she slammed her textbook shut and shoved it aside. "Who gives homework on the first day back to school?"

Adrian shrugged, looking in her book and then scribbling something in her notebook. "Evil Calculus teachers?"

Grace laughed. She pushed back from the table and walked over to the fridge and opened it. She searched through it for a few minutes before she pulled something out. She walked over into the space between the island and the cupboards. She opened up the cupboard with the cups and pulled a glass down out of it.

Adrian closed up her calculus book and turned around. "Grace, what are you doing!"

Her eyes were wide at the sight of Grace pouring liquor into a cup.

Grace just shrugged. "It's just a cup of wine. You want some?"

Adrian jumped up from her seat and walked over to Grace. She grabbed the bottle hastily from Grace and recapped it. "No! I **don't** want any! What are you doing? You're gonna get yourself into trouble!"

Grace rolled her eyes. "I highly doubt that. It's not like I'm drinking so much that-"

"You shouldn't be drinking at all! Does your mom know about this? How long have you been doing it?"

Grace rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Does it really matter?"

Adrian forced a laugh out and shook her head. "I think it would matter to your parents!"

Grace shook her head. She picked up the glass and took a drink out of it. "My dad is dead, and my mom is always off with Jeff now. You think she's around enough to notice what I do anymore?"

Adrian huffed. "Well what about Jack? Does Jack know? You know he's there for you, Grace!"

Grace shrugged, rolling her eyes again. She walked back over to the table and sat down. She crossed one leg over the other as she sipped out of the cup she was holding in her hands. "No, Jack doesn't know. Why would I tell him? So he can tell his mom and dad, and they can tell my mom? No thanks, Adrian."

Adrian groaned. She picked up the wine bottle and walked over to the fridge. She placed it inside and then walked over to the table and took the cup out of Grace's hands.

"What about the fact that you can't mix antidepressants and sleep meds with alcohol? Don't you care about how that will affect your health? It could hurt your liver! You could kill yourself, Grace!"

Adrian stared at her, arms flung out with her face aghast. Grace simply continued to drink from the glass as she picked up her books and stuffed them into her bag.

"Nothing's going to happen to me," she said with assurance. "I'm fine."

Adrian laughed in disgust. "Yeah, that's what everyone says. But you know what? Most people who make **stupid** choices like this- because that **is** what you're doing - making a stupid choice. They usually end up rehab eventually. Is that what you want?"

Grace gulped down what was in her wine glass and then grabbed her bag off the side of her chair. "You know what Adrian? I don't really care what happens to me, so why don't you just leave? You sitting here and yelling at me isn't going to change anything."

"Leave? So that you can drink more," Adrian said angrily. "No way."

Grace rolled her eyes, and with a huff, she turned on her heel. She walked over to the stairs and marched up them, to her room. Adrian followed behind her and threw her hand out to stop Grace's door from flying shut as she walked into it. She walked in as well and stood near the doorway.

"Why didn't you tell me you were depressed or whatever," Adrian asked.

Grace groaned. "It doesn't matter how I feel, Adrian, so let it go! Just go home!" She walked over to her and shoved her, and then pushed her out of the room, turning to shut the door behind her. Adrian huffed as she leaned against the door.

"I'm here for you, Grace. I wish you'd talk to me." She rested her hand against the door, hoping for an answer. When she didn't receive one, she turned on her heel and walked out of the house.

_-  
I remember when you came with me that night  
__You said forever, that you would never let me go  
- _

Amy shifted from one foot to the other as she stood in the lobby of the therapists' office. They had dropped John off earlier that morning at the church nursery. Ricky was sitting in his wheelchair next to her with his head rested in his hand.

She sipped from the coffee she had picked up on the drive over there as she leaned against the wall behind her.

Ricky looked up at her and rubbed his eyes, yawning for what had to be the fifth time that morning. "Sucks that even though we have half days now, we can't sleep in."

Amy nodded, taking another sip from her coffee. "Are you sure you don't want something with caffeine in it?"

Ricky nodded as well. "Makes my head feel funny. It doesn't seem to like being mixed with pain meds."

Amy walked over to the chair next to him and sat down, still holding her coffee tightly in her hand. She bounced her feet against the floor and looked around the room. Ricky reached over and placed his hand on her one of her knees. She looked up at him.

"Take a deep breath," he laughed. "It's not an interrogation. You don't have to answer any questions you don't want to, and if you don't like it, there's no one saying that you have to come again."

Amy furrowed her brow. "Then why do you? I've heard you say more than once that you can't stand being here."

Ricky shrugged. "When I lived with my parents, I didn't have a choice, but the logical part of me knows when I need to be here."

"And you feel like you need to be here five days a week now," Amy asked disbelievingly.

Ricky shrugged again. "My father raped me and tried to kill me. The logical part of me says I do, so for now, I show up."

Amy frowned and nodded. She reached over and grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry, Ricky. I'm sorry he did the things to you that he did, and that he won't stop."

He tipped his head to the side, looking over at her. "I am too. Not for me, but for him."

Amy raised her eyebrows at him. "Seriously?"

Ricky nodded. "He's the one who did what his father did to him. He's the one who missed out on living a full life because he felt the need to repeat his past. I, on the other hand, get to watch my son grow up and live the life that I used to wish for."

Amy looked at him skeptically. "What do you mean 'used to'?"

Ricky shrugged. "Wishing is for people who want something they can't have. There's no use to it."

Amy let out a sigh and leaned back in her chair. As she did, Dr. Fields door opened and he stepped out, holding his own cup of coffee.

"Ricky, Amy. I'm ready for both of you if you want to come in," he said loud enough for them to hear them.

Amy stood and Ken walked over to them. He pushed Ricky's chair into his room, and Amy followed slowly behind them, closing the door once they were inside. With a little help, Ricky shifted to the couch and rested his leg up onto the table in front of him, where Dr. Fields had placed a pillow for his foot. Amy walked over and sat near him on the couch, but left an amicable amount of space between them. She still held her coffee cup in her hand, though she had settled her bag next to her feet on the floor.

Dr. Fields poured both of them each a cup of water and then walked over to his chair and sat down in it. He picked up two separate files and flipped both of them open before settling them in the chair next to him.

"Good morning to both of you," said cheerfully.

Amy was slightly surprised by his tone. Ricky shrugged, and she muttered a 'good morning' back at him.

"So, Amy, Ricky tells me you'd like to start coming to therapy," he asked.

Amy shrugged. She leaned forward and set her coffee down on the table and then leaned back on the couch. She crossed one leg over the other. "I guess. It's more that my parents want me here. They think it might help."

"Help with what exactly," Dr. Fields picked up one of the files. It was extremely thin compared to Ricky's very thick folder, which was filled with note after note from the years of therapy he'd had so far.

"They said they're worried about how I've been since the shooting at school," she said.

Dr. Fields nodded as he wrote something in her file. "And what do you think about it all?"

Amy shrugged again. "I don't know. I think what happened is really screwed up. I don't think we should all be bright and shiny faced. People were hurt. People died. Some of my closest friends are dead."

Dr. Fields nodded. "So you see no problem with your anger?"

Amy's jaw dropped. She looked over at Ricky, who simply shrugged. He grabbed a glass of water off of the table and sipped from it.

"Why should I? One of my best friends was shot in the head, my boyfriend almost was almost killed… Why should I pretend to be happy?"

She settled her coffee cup on the table and crossed one arm over the other.

Dr. Fields shook his head. "That's not what I'm asking. In no way, should you pretend to act some way that you don't feel, but what do you think about being asked to talk to someone about how everything has made you feel?"

Amy exhaled heavily through her nose and looked down at the floor. She ran her hand through her bangs. "I don't know. I don't get how talking to someone is going to help me to feel better. I can't erase what I heard from my head."

Ricky looked over at her, his mouth slightly ajar.

Dr. Fields put his hand up to Ricky and shook his head. "Wait just a minute."

He turned his attention back to Amy and settled her file next to his chair, clasping his hands together. "You're talking about hearing the gunfire?"

"No," Ricky shook his head as tears burned in his eyes. "No. You… You listened?"

Amy looked over at him. "How was I supposed to block it out? Not hear it? What he did to you-"

Ricky clenched the side of the couch and leaned forward on it, sucking in deep breaths. Dr. Fields moved off his chair and walked over to them. He picked up a wastepaper bin off the floor and rested it in Ricky's lap as he perched on the arm of the couch. Ricky whipped his hand up and grabbed the edge of the bin as he heaved into it.

Amy stood and walked over to the wall on the far side of the room. She stared out the window and held her injured arm tightly against her body.

"_You okay?" _

"_Mmm_."

She looked briefly over her shoulder and watched as Dr. Fields settled the wastepaper bin on the floor and then pulled the bag off the sides and tied it shut.

"Does that get to you," Dr. Fields asked as he sat back down in his chair. "Knowing she overheard what happened and didn't stop it?"

Ricky shook his head. Amy turned her gaze back to the window she'd been staring out. "I told her not to come in, 'cause I knew he'd kill her if she did. She couldn't leave the room without risking being killed either, so I told her to hide."

Amy turned around from where she stood. "Yeah, and instead, I got to listen to your father r- do things."

Ricky leaned forward on the couch. "Say it. Say what he did."

They stared each other down, but Amy said nothing.

"It's rape," Ricky growled, his voice raw. "And for twelve years, my _father_ did it to me **every night**. My mom was never there, and the only person who listened to me scream, apparently enjoyed it because he kept doing it."

Amy kept her attention turned away from them, trying to keep what he was saying blocked out. She glared so widely out the window, she felt like her eyes might fall out of her head. Tears were filling her eyes, but she was fighting every fiber of herself to keep them from falling.

"Its sick and twisted, too, Ames, cause he'll never stop. It's not good enough to go after anyone else, either. The only one he wants to hurt is me. Just, me."

"STOP!" Amy whipped around and glared at her, clenching her fists. "Don't you get it? You talking about that, about what he did? It hurts. I hate knowing he did those things to you!"

Ricky leaned back slightly and gulped. "Then why are you with me?"

Amy walked back over to the couch and sat down next to him. "Because _I love you_." She reached her hand up and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb across his face. "I always have. I don't know why, but I do. And thinking about what he did to you, and about how I could've stopped it-"

Ricky shook his head, pulling her hand off his face. "You couldn't have stopped him. He would've done whatever it would've taken to get what he wanted. He always has. He probably would have killed you that day. And then what? What would I have done about John? What if the cops hadn't caught Bob? What if he was still out there, and he came after me again? What if he got to John? _Don't you get it? _If he had gotten to you, John and I would be as good as dead."

Amy dropped her hand into her lap and stared down at it as tears ran down her face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Ricky shook his head again. "Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong."

He leaned forward and brushed his nose against hers, and then kissed her cheek.

"So I ask again," Dr. Fields said gently. "What do you think about being here, Amy?"

She looked up at him shakily as she settled back on the couch. This time she left no space between herself and Ricky, and he held her hand in his own.

"It scares me," she said honestly.

Dr. Fields shifted in his chair, leaning forward. "Why?"

Amy bit her bottom lip and shrugged slightly. "I don't know. I think I'm afraid of realizing that I'm a completely different person than I think I am."

Dr. Fields smiled at her, but he also shrugged. "Well, you never know unless you give yourself a chance to find out."

Amy nodded slowly, and looked back down to the floor.

Dr. Fields looked over at Ricky. "You getting any sleep yet?"

Ricky shrugged, blinking his eyes slowly. "Trying."

"He keeps waking up from nightmares," Amy murmured.

"How bad are they," Dr. Fields asked.

Ricky took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm remembering things that feel more like dreams, but I know they're real."

"Like," Dr. Fields asked. He didn't want to push Ricky too hard, but he also knew if he didn't push enough, they wouldn't discuss what really needed to be.

Ricky looked around the room, and his expression changed to that of someone emotionally pained by their own memories.

"He used to beat me up so bad that I'd end up with concussions so bad I can't remember whole days or weeks at a time. They rarely let me to go to the hospital, and when they did ,they'd make me make up some story about falling out of a tree or getting beat up on my walk home from school. I keep dreaming about things that happened when I was five, six years old. Like my first day of school…"

"You've never talked about that before," Dr. Fields mentioned.

Amy crossed one leg over the other and turned to face Ricky. "What happened?"

Ricky looked out the window across the room. "My father wasn't too happy that I wasn't around to do his bidding all of the time, and that he couldn't…" He shook his head, staring hard at the window panes.

"Couldn't what?"

Ricky set his jaw. A soundless sob quaked in his chest. "Couldn't lend me out to his buddies so that he could get high. He's never had a job. For as long as I can remember, he used me to get ahead. Whatever he needed, he used me to get it. He even-"

Ricky's breathing became harder at the memories rolling through his head like a movie reel. He shook his head. They didn't really want to know this stuff.

Tears rolled down Amy's cheeks as she listened to him talk. As much as it hurt her to hear that he'd been through this things. She knew that, to some degree, it helped him to be able to talk about it.

"What is it," she asked.

Ricky looked up at her. "You don't want to know."

She shrugged. "I'd rather know than not, and watch you suffer because of it."

She squeezed his hand gently, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. "What is it?"

"On weekends," he started. "If he was indebted to someone, he'd let them take me. Sometimes it was for a few hours. Other times, I'd be gone all weekend. In the beginning, sometimes my mom would go looking for me, and find me. But by the time I told my teacher about everything, she'd given up trying. I spent more time doing my father's bidding at some random stranger's place, or a rundown hotel, than I did at home."

Dr. Fields leaned back in his chair, and exhaled a long breath. It seemed for as many time as Ricky told him such horrid stories about his past, there were always more that he left unsaid. He couldn't imagine wishing that kind of pain on anyone. And yet, the more time went on, the more there was always left to say about something that he would sooner keep to himself.

"Your life is just one bad horror movie after another," Amy murmured into the air.

Dr. Fields checked his watch. "Why don't we take a short break. Have either of you eaten breakfast?"

Amy shook her head. "We haven't really had appetites."

Dr. Fields nodded. He walked across the room and opened a large cabinet. He pulled out two clean bowls and settled them settled them on his desk. He walked back over to the cabinet and grabbed a box of cereal out of it. He filled both bowls and then grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge and poured some into each bowl. Lastly, he returned the cereal and milk to the cabinet and fridge, and grabbed plastic spoons from a box. He settled them inside the bowls and then walked back over to Ricky and Amy, and settled the bowls on the coffee table in front of them.

Ricky pulled his hand reluctantly from Amy's. He scooted forward on the couch and grabbed the spoon inside the bowl settled in front of him, and scooped a bite from it. She followed his movements and scooped a generous spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

"Ricky, you still writing when it helps," Dr. Fields asked.

Ricky nodded as he munched down a bite of his cheerios. "Mostly when I can't sleep at night."

"You write anything in the last few days," he asked.

Ricky nodded. He took another bite from his cereal bowl and then reached into Amy's bag and pulled out a small book. It was hardcover with a basic black covering. He flipped it open and read the writing.

"_its dirty,  
__this feeling,  
__can't wash it off my skin,  
__its burning,  
__deep inside,  
__its burdening me within_

_so sick,  
__so impure,  
__can't forget those nights_

_if I could run away,  
__cause i don't want to stay,  
__endless, endless night_

_tears, burning,  
__silence, yearning  
__rocking and pacing,  
__hiding and waiting_

_lone tears,  
__dark in the night,  
__shaking,  
__running from my skin  
__wake up, wake up,  
__this isn't right_

_so sick,  
__so impure  
__wide awake,  
__but tired inside_

_burning from the inside out,  
__every touch filled with doubt,  
__can't wash this off,  
__can't cut it away,  
__though I might try  
__can't throw it away_

_get rid of it,  
__get off,  
__wipe away,  
__off my skin,  
__touching, burning,  
__hurting my skin_

_i'm sick inside,  
__you've made me want to die  
__burning with impurity  
__innocence never seemed so dull  
__aching pain, is a stow-away  
__and my white canvas has crimson flowers_

_tears, burning tears,  
__but still, I'm sitting here  
__so impure,  
__there's nothing left here  
__excuse me sir,  
__I think this belonged to you..."_

He closed the book slowly and looked up; first at Amy, and then at Dr. Fields. Amy looked heartbroken. Dr. Fields looked scared.

"Are you suicidal, Ricky?"


	13. Dangers Form Without You There

_Chapter 13_

_Dangers Form Without You There_

Ricky settled his chair at the table where Amy had settled his tray of food. Grace, Adrian, Jack, and Ben were all also seated at it. Amy had gone back to get her own food. Grace and Adrian seemed to be having some silent argument, though they hadn't let anyone else in on what exactly it was that was causing it. Ben and Jack were talking about the baseball game that had gone on the night before, and other students were filing in and out of the school around them. They technically didn't start for another fourty minutes or so, but lunch was the one time that the entire student body shared the school. The faculty pretty much packed into the commons for supervision, and a number of them also stood near the benches outside.

Amy pushed her tray along the counter as she piled a salad together. It wasn't easy maneuvering in between other students, especially since most were not amicable to her injury. The bar that ran under her brace to keep her arm straight was thick and not comfortable to bump into. Several people had already given her frustrated looks when they had bumped into her.

She picked up her tray and moved around the side of the salad bar. She moved to settle the tray back down on the ledge, and misjudged where to place it. It began to topple, but a girl caught the edge of it and placed it back on the counter. She was a brunette with shoulder-length hair. She was dressed in a gray top and black skinny jeans.

"Thanks," Amy murmured.

The girl nodded with a smile towards Amy. "I'm sure it's not easy carrying stuff with only one arm to use."

Amy chuckled softly. "That's an understatement, and it doesn't help when people aren't willing to work with you."

The girl nodded again. "I broke my leg last year. People used to glare at me because of my crutches." She extended her hand, and then switched arms with a blush as she realized she was offering to Amy's broken arm.

"I'm Ryenne."

Amy smiled even more. "I'm Amy. Amy Juergens. I think we-"

"Share a locker, yeah," Ryenne replied cheerfully. "Your little brother is super cute."

Amy's smile faltered slightly. She looked down at the floor and bit her bottom lip for a moment, and then looked back up at Ryenne.

"Thanks. But he's not my brother. He's my son," she spoke rushed, nervous.

Ryenne shrugged, continuing to smile. "Hey, no worries. You got a cute kid. Are you eating here?"

Amy nodded. "With my boyfriend and some friends. Do you want to join us?"

Ryenne nodded. "Do you mind if some of my friends join us?"

Amy shook her head. "We're sitting outside, just by the doors."

"Cool," Ryenne replied. "I'll be there in a minute or two."

She picked up Amy's tray and handed it to her, and made sure it was steady in Amy's grip before they both set off in their separate directions. She walked towards the double glass doors that led outside and managed to get lucky when a guy held open the door for some other girls, and waited a moment longer for her to pass through as well. She muttered a thank you with a smile, and passed by him before he could ask the question she had seen forming on his lips a few moments before. No, she wasn't single. No, she didn't want to go on a date, or get to know him.

She settled on the bench next to Ricky, who was left sitting with only Ben.

"Where did Adrian, Grace, and Jack go," She asked as she settled her bag on the handle of Ricky's wheelchair.

"Adrian and Grace were arguing, and Jack got in the middle of it somehow. They went elsewhere," Ben explained as he chewed on a carrot stick.

"Oh," Amy murmured. She picked up a piece of lettuce and munched on it. She watched Ricky awkwardly for a few moments before he realized she was staring at him. He huffed.

"I'm fine, alright! I already told you and Dr. Fields this morning: I'm **not** suicidal. I promise if I was thinking about those kinds of things, I would tell someone, okay?"

Amy stared at him for almost a minute before she nodded in reluctant agreement. She picked up her spork and stabbed it through several pieces of lettuce and began to chew on it.

Several girls walked over to their table, including Ryenne. She slid into the space next to Amy and waved at Ricky and Ben.

"This is my locker mate," Amy said as she waved her good arm towards Ryenne. Ryenne nodded at Ricky and Ben and waved at both of them. Two girls settled on the bench next to her.

"These are my best friends, Annie and Taylor," Ryenne explained, gesturing to a blond girl seated next to her wearing a pale pink dress, and another girl next to her, who was dressed much like Ryenne, though her hair was as black as Alice's.

"Lunch is so crazy around here," Annie commented, looking around at the bustling of people around them. Someone stumbled into the table and knocked Ben forward. His tray bumped his drink but Ricky's hand flew out to stop it before it toppled over.

"You can say that again," Ben murmured. He grabbed his soda from in front of his food tray and took a sip from it before placing it on his tray.

"I hate to say it, but the kids here are pretty bitchy to begin with," Ryenne said with a laugh. She forked a mouthful of some type of casserole into her mouth as they all continued to look around the people shuffling back and forth around them.

"Can't say that it's not the same way at Grant," Amy replied. She picked at a piece of a cheeseburger on her tray, while Ricky grabbed a stick of celery from one of her sides and dipped it into a small cup of dressing, and munched on it. He nodded in agreement with her.

"Some of them aren't very accepting to the fact that we have to share our space," Taylor said. "Half the cheerleaders tried to go to the board and complain about sharing lockers. I don't see what the big deal is, though. It's only for a few months, and it's not like they have to deal with the people they share with anyway. Plus, the faculty already promised that if things weren't kept up on both parts, there would be locker evictions. Seems fair enough to me."

Amy, Ben and Ricky each nodded while they picked at their lunches. It had seemed slightly annoying when the arrangement had been first set - mostly for them because they didn't want the whole world knowing who their son was and what he looked like, because of Ricky's parents. Even so, it was a simple arrangement. The likelihood of meeting your locker mate was slim to none, unless Grant students came early for the lunch hour or the Van Nuys students stuck around for it. Lunch let out ten minutes before class started, and most students finished eating before it was over, so by the time most of the Grant student body showed up, the grounds was pretty much clear. Plus, it wasn't that hard to keep a locker clean when you only used it for four hours a day. Most of the students took their things with them at the end of the day anyway, as they drove cars. The ones who didn't were left to their own devices.

"I think we've been pretty good with our own upkeep so far," Amy chuckled to Ryenne. Ryenne nodded in agreement.

"You'll have to let me know if it gets a little unruly towards the end of the year. I can get a little messy around finals. These girls are usually picking on me by then to stay after a little while to clean up a little bit," said Ryenne.

Amy laughed as she glanced up at Ben. "You should see how bad Ben's can get."

"I swear a tumbleweed was going to come flying out of his locker at the end of last year," Ricky laughed. "It was like a black hole in there."

Amy nodded at him and they both laughed. Ben laughed as well, though he blushed slightly.

"So what grades are you guys in," Taylor asked them.

"Amy and I are in our sophomore year," Ben answered. "And Ricky is a junior."

Ryenne nodded, looking back and forth between Amy and Ricky. "So then you must've gotten pregnant-"

"The summer before my freshman year," Amy replied. She took a generous bite from her cheeseburger, as if she could avoid the conversation that seemed to be starting up.

"How old is your boy," Ryenne asked

"He'll be one in a little over a month," Ricky answered quietly.

"Cool," Ryenne said with a smile.

_-  
If my yesterday is a disgrace  
__Tell me that you still recall my name  
- _

Amy kicked her legs up onto the coffee table in front of her as Ricky settled next to her. He reached forward and grabbed one of the open containers of Chinese food and passed one back to her before he picked up one for himself and settled it in his lap.

"I'm already bored with school, and we've only been back two days," Amy said.

Ricky laughed, but he nodded. "It **does**kinda suck without orchestra. Having two study halls when your teachers aren't giving you homework is kind of boring."

"Exactly," Amy agreed. "I mean if I have to have two study halls, then why can't I have them on the same day, take that time and put it towards a work credit, and go help out at the nursery?"

"Because you're supposed to be taking time off," Ricky offered.

Amy threw her head back on the couch and looked over at him. "I've been working for a year. I'm not used to having all this extra time. I don't know how to be injured, or how to not be able to take care of John full time."

Ricky nodded, shoving his fork through a piece of sesame chicken. "I feel the same way. I'll be happy at least when I can get out of this cast and walk some. It's frustrating being so useless."

Amy picked up a piece of orange chicken out of her carton and nodded. She chewed on it and then settled the carton aside. "So can I ask you something?"

Ricky nodded, though he continued to eat his own food. "What?"

"Were you planning a proposal, or did you just ask me that day in the school because you didn't want to die without having said it," she asked.

Ricky swallowed the mouthful of rice and sesame chicken in his mouth before he looked up at her and spoke.

"I had an idea of what I wanted to do to ask, but when we were stuck there that day, I was sure that there was no chance I was going to get out of there alive, and I wanted to be able to have asked you. After we fell in the hall though, before I woke up, I couldn't remember if I'd asked you or if I had just imagined it. I didn't want to say it in front of all of our friends because that's never how I wanted to do it. I mean I wanted to be able to do it in front of people, but not like that."

Amy nodded, picking up a piece of the sesame chicken with her fingers. She chewed on it while she spoke, with a slight smile on her face and a blush in her cheeks.

"So do you have a ring?"

Ricky smiled back at her and shook his head. "I'm not telling you that. We'll see about doing something about that _after_I'm walking again. I do want to marry you, Amy. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you, and I want you and John and I to be together, but I want to do it right. I want to ask your father for his blessing, and really propose to you, with a ring in front of all of our friends and your family and my parents. I want to plan a wedding with you and decide who to invite and argue over what kind of food to have, but I want to do it the right way. I don't want to do it because I did it right, not because I was scared. I want it to feel like a real proposal for you, so that when John and our other kids ask you one day about how it happened, you can tell them a good story about how we had a nice dinner or a party or something like that. I don't want it to be a story about how I asked you because I wasn't sure I'd survive. Okay?"

Amy nodded, though she was frowning slightly. She _really_ wanted a ring.

Ricky smirked and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a chain with a basic band hanging on it. "I want you to have this until I **do**propose. I know it's nothing special, but it means something to me."

He unclasped the chain and took the ring off, and then reached for her hand and slipped it on her ring finger. It was a little big, so she slipped it off, and then placed it onto her middle finger, where it fit slightly better.

"Did someone give it to you," Amy asked.

Ricky shrugged. "It's the only thing my mother ever gave me. It was her mothers before her. My parents never married, but she sent it to me before I started high school; said she wanted me to have it. I thought she'd killed herself until she showed up to the hospital. I really don't have any affinity to it or anything, it's just…"

"Your mothers," Amy finished. She smiled and cupped his cheek, and kissed him lightly. "I get it."

"Now can I ask you something," he asked her.

Amy nodded, running her fingers through her bangs as she often did. She rested her elbow against the couch and her palm against her forehead, staring at him from the spot next to his. "What?"

"Would you be willing to bring John and move in with me after I'm out of my cast," he asked. "I would want to talk to your parents about it, but…would you?"

Amy chewed on her lip for a moment, and then nodded. "I would really like that. It would seem logical, I think."

Ricky nodded as well, and leaned over to kiss her. "I know it's going to sound stupid, but it would be a trial run. We should be able to live together with our son if we're going to get married, and we already spend most of our time together as it is."

And it was true. Ever since John's birth, they had each spent most of their time at one another's homes. It was only when Bob had been released from jail and had started coming after Ricky that Amy's parents wouldn't allow her to go over to his place, as they had feared for her and John's safety. She knew in her heart that they worried for Ricky's as well, but he had been too stubborn to move back home with his parents, and though Anne and George were aware that it was likely that Amy and Ricky were engaging in sexual relations, they weren't comfortable with him staying there and allowing it to happen under their own roof.

"Its weird," Amy commented. "I can't believe that John's almost one. I can't believe we've been together almost a year."

"It didn't really hit me until Ryenne asked about his birthday," Ricky said with agreement. "Seems like just yesterday we were fighting in school about giving him up for adoption, and you were telling me that you wanted to marry Ben. I can't believe we ever managed to make it here, from where we started."

Amy chuckled. "Where we started was at band camp with you looking for a good time."

Ricky laughed lightly, but he shook his head. "Maybe, but it was more than that in the end of it, Amy."

She furrowed her brow, taking more food from his carton. For some reason it always tasted better when it was his and not hers. "Really?"

He nodded, taking a piece of sesame chicken from her fingers and eating it. "I really wanted things to work between us, but back then… I don't know. When I got what I wanted those days, then I felt bad because I would build up this big story, and then disappear. I wasn't making choices that were good or even fair. I just wanted things to work out in my favour and get away with it, you know?"

She nodded, taking another piece of chicken from his carton. "But you've changed since then."

"That I have," he agreed. "There's not a day that goes back that I'm not grateful that I have you and John. I hate to think of where I'd be if you hadn't gotten pregnant that night. What **we'd**be like."

Amy laughed. "I'd be still trying to make a relationship work with Ben…until he broke up with me to get with Grace. You'd still be having sex with Adrian. **I** hate to say it, but if you dad hadn't gotten out of jail last year, we might have never figured out how to make this work."

Ricky nodded, handing over the carton of food. Amy smiled and tossed her legs over his lap and took the fork from the carton and began picking through it for the pieces of sesame chicken.

He knew she was right. Even though he hated his father for what he had done to him that night, and he knew that when the shooting went to trial that Bob Underwood would likely never see the light of day outside a prison yard again, he was the reason Ricky could call Amy his girlfriend. Amy had been there at the clinic when he'd come in with Marshal. She'd seen his split lip and the cut below his eye. He'd been so determined to come into the clinic on his own, but his father had kicked him so many times in the ribs and back that he almost fell over at the check-in desk.

She remembered how she had been standing there with her mother, scheduling another appointment for a few weeks later, and how she'd had her back to them, because she hadn't felt right all day, but in the end she was fine. Her mind had been caught up in all the_ 'is this feeling right' _thoughts running through her head, that when Ricky had stepped up near her, and then almost collapsed, it took her a moment to realize who he was. Marshal had taped a piece of gauze over the cut under his eye, but his knuckles were raw and scabbed, and the pain in his face was evident that it hurt to breathe.

She'd been sick to her stomach when the doctor told him he was _lucky_ to only have two broken ribs. Lucky was not a word that seemed to describe the situation her son's father was in. But she'd told him that night about finding out that John was a boy, because she wanted to make him feel better. She wanted to do something to make him feel better, and at the time, that seemed like the right thing.

Somehow after that night, they found a way to become friends. And the closer they got, the more frustrated Ben became. Eventually it drove a deep enough wedge between Ben and Amy, and they split amicably. Sure, Ben still had his jealous fits when he exclaimed that John should've been his son, but Amy knew in her heart that she wouldn't want it any other way, and Ricky felt the same way. John was **their **son, and the idea of anyone else being his mother or father didn't even feel right to think about.

"Do you really think asking my parents permission to let me move in with you is actually going to work," Amy asked him.

Ricky shrugged. "I really don't know. Then again, when Ben wanted to marry you as a freshman, they said no, but I asked you as an almost-junior, and they haven't raised any flags yet. And remember, your father used to hate me so much that he told me not to have anything to do with you or John."

Amy nodded. "It feels… different, though. I wanted to marry Ben because I wanted him to rescue me. I wanted anyone to rescue me. I guess I didn't want to **be**me."

"And instead you rescued me," Ricky added with a smile. Amy smiled back at him. She leaned over and kissed him, setting the food container on the table in front of them. Ricky brushed his hand into her hair and cradled her head as he kissed her back, while she fingered the collar of his t-shirt.

They broke away after growing breathless, and rested their heads against each other.

"I'm sorry I haven't been more open lately," Amy murmured. "I guess after everything happened, it didn't feel right to want to kiss you or insinuate more."

Ricky nodded, brushing his fingers through her bangs. "I get it. But you don't have to feel like you have to hold back with me. What Bob did was sick; I'll give you that. Even so, it's not the same, and I know that, because I know you would never hurt me. I love you, Amy."

She smiled at him and kissed him quickly, and then hugged him. "I love you too, Ricky."

_-  
I shot for the sky, I'm stuck on the ground  
__So why do I try… I know I'm gonna fall down  
- _

Adrian huffed as she dropped her books onto the kitchen table. She had made a snack for herself and Ben, though he had yet to show up. They had a geometry class together that she was struggling with, and he had offered to help her out with some of the problems that were due the on Wednesday. Jack had also said he was planning on stopping by, though Adrian wasn't sure if that was because he was having trouble with his school work as well, or if it was because of Grace. She hadn't talked to him yet about what she'd seen Grace doing, and she wasn't sure he knew.

She flipped open her geometry book and pulled her notebook out of her book, flipping to the page where she'd started the homework the night before. She then settled into the chair in front of her books and grabbed one of the half-cut sandwiches she'd made off a plate in the middle of the table and took a bite out of it while she read over one of the problems.

The door opened around the corner, and she stood in time to hear the voices of Ben and her father walking down the short hallway from the back door. She chewed the food in her mouth and dropped the sandwich next to her textbook and smiled at them, greeting her father with a hug.

"Good afternoon, sweetie. Homework," Ruben guessed.

Adrian nodded. "I invited Ben over to help with some geometry stuff I'm not getting. I thought you were up at the school all day today?"

Ruben nodded back at her. "I am, but they're needing help cleaning out of the classrooms, so I thought I'd come home and change into something less formal," he explained, and Adrian understood. He was dressed in a three piece suit. "Shouldn't be too late a night, if you want to order in around eight. I shouldn't be gone much later than that."

Adrian nodded again. "Sounds good. Mom is supposed to be home for the night, but I don't think her flight gets in until really late."

Ruben smiled at the comment and then nodded to Ben in one of those 'don't-mess-with-my-daughter' moments before he took off up the stairs.

Ben settled his book bag on an empty chair and opened it up before pulling his things out. "Have you already got some of the work done," he asked.

Adrian nodded, picking up her sandwich off the table and taking another bite out of it.

"I tried to do the whole assignment, but the further I got, the more confusing it got, and I can't really afford to spend much more time on it. We got assigned a huge physics project today that I have to work with Jack on," she explained.

Ben nodded, opening his own notebook. "Well I already finished, so I'll show you how I figured it out and see if that helps," he offered.

Adrian nodded as well, and sat down in the chair next to his as he pulled his leftover scrap paper from when he'd done the assignment. They worked relentlessly for a little over a half hour, and by the time they were finished, Adrian had better understanding for what she was doing, and had managed to finish the assignment _and_ help Ben with some problems that he had struggled with as well.

Adrian shook off the empty plate that had held sandwiches as Jack knocked at the door. She dropped the plate gently into the basin and shut the faucet off before grabbing a piece of paper toweling to dry her hands, and headed over to the door. She opened it up and stepped aside to allow him entry before walking back to the table with him.

"Have you talked to Grace at all this afternoon," she asked.

Jack nodded. "Something about her isn't right. I mean even more so than since the shooting."

Adrian took a deep breath and crossed her arms, looking out the window. "She's not making the best choices for herself right now, and I **know** she's not talking to anyone. She went to see a psychologist and psychiatrist once, but as soon as they gave her antidepressants, she stopped. She needs help, Jack."

Jack nodded again. "I know. But I don't know _how_ to help her. I mean, would it even matter to tell her mother?"

"I don't know," Adrian murmured. She didn't necessarily feel right telling Kathleen about Grace's drinking without substantial proof. At the same time, she wanted Grace to tell her mother herself that she was struggling, but she knew Grace wouldn't. They hadn't connected on a normal level ever since her father's death.

"I could ask my dad to talk to her, but I don't know that doing that would help either," Jack offered.

Adrian nodded, and Jack sunk down into a chair at the table.

"She's making comments about ditching school, and she's not going to any of the clubs she used to," Jack said. "I don't know what to do to scare her straight."

"She's drinking," Adrian blurted. She threw her hand up to her mouth and exhaled heavily, immediately mentally kicking herself.

"What? How?" Jack was back up out of the chair he'd been in, though he didn't move towards Adrian.

"I don't know when it started exactly," Adrian replied. "But I was over there last night doing homework, and she was drinking. I tried to talk to her about it, but she just dismissed everything I said and told me to leave. Like I didn't care about her."

Jack heaved a sigh and shook his head. "She's been giving me the same runaround. She seems to think that she's not worth people's time or whatever. I don't even get it. She didn't hurt anyone or cause anything to happen to anyone."

"Sometimes PTSD hits people in unexpected ways," Adrian answered back. "But I don't know how to be there for her when she won't let anyone in, you know?"

Jack nodded. "I do."

Adrian shook her head and ran a hand through it . "The only thing I can think to do is talk to someone, but I don't know who. I don't want to hurt her more than she already is."

Jack shook his head. "This is all too much for teenagers to be handling."

"I agree," Adrian replied. "But who's going to help? Her mom is pretty absent lately. I think she hoped that the shooting would change what it's been like, but it didn't."

Jack shook his head and looked around the room. "I'm going to go back over to Grace's and see if I can't get her to talk to me, or at least not do anything stupid for a while."

Adrian nodded, crossing an arm across her chest and resting the other against it, holding her head with her fingers in her hair. "Alright. I'll see what I can find on the internet to help her, and talk to Ricky or something about Lauren's dad. There's got to be someone who can help."


	14. Please ReadReview This

Alright guys. Here's the deal.

You all know I love this story. I mean, I absolutely adore it. I started it with whole-hearted intentions almost 2 years ago, and with the entire intention of finishing it. We all know why I started (I had been reading Columbine by Dave Cullen, incase you forgot ;).)

Anyhow, I've also neglected this baby for so long, that I feel bad that I haven't updated. To be honest, a large part of me is still struggling with this story, but I also desperately want to finish it.

That's where you come in! (No, I'm not giving it away…I love this story too much to do that.) My question is: Would you rather see this discontinued and have me repost the story when I get around to rewriting it (something I would love to do), or rather just wait for updates as they come?

I'm going to take a majority vote here because I believe in democracy, so I need ALL of you to send me a PM or review this so that I know! The story, if rewritten, would have the same basic plot (school shooting), but I might shift things around a little, add a little more to the first few chapters, stuff like that.

Your opinions are loved/adored/needed.

That said, IF this happens, you can look forward to something new in March. I've got 2 Pretty Little Liars fanficitons on my plate at the moment (that you should TOTALLY read), and the first of the two should be done being written at that point.

In the meantime….send me your opinions. I'd love to hear them.

Please and thank you.

Mel


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